


Neil Josten's Vendetta

by Luci_Cunt



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Aaron and Andrew healllinngg toogeethherr, All he Foxes will be mentioned I love them all dearly, King is a therapy animal, M/M, Nathan Wesninski is systematically taken down by his son, No important people die, Slow Burn, andrew is a criminology major and he's thriving, it's a mess, marshall is dead, roommates au, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:33:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 63,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luci_Cunt/pseuds/Luci_Cunt
Summary: Neil needs a roommate, he gets Andrew. Which is fine, until Andrew is the first person to connect all of Neil’s victims and actually start figuring out who is killing all of the Butcher of Baltimore’s people. Then Neil starts having some issues. It only gets worse when Andrew accidentally discovers a whole new Japanese-flavored layer to Neil's personal vendetta.(also AO3 won't let me add these tags but: r*ko moryams, the m*riyamas get merked also.)





	1. Neil Josten Gets a Therapy Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Whazzaaap, this is basically just a "everyones-living-their-best-lives" au with a side of murder because I'm a slut for happy foxes. So instead of Neil going to Arizona and playing exy after Mary dies, he starts trying destroy his fathers entire regime from the bottom up and turns out to be really, really good at it. But since he's doing that full time he can only work part time and needs to save his money for muurrrddeerrr so he has to get a roommate and queue Andrew Minyard, criminology major and local insomniac who sticks his nose places it definitely shouldn't be. He's ends up discovering Neil's victims and connects them (which no one believes are actually connected) and Neil's definitely not freaking out about it. 
> 
> So that's that, hope you like it, I'm planning on updating Wednesdays? I like Wednesdays, but this week I've got a break so I might crank out some extra chapters. Hope y'all enjoy this, if you're reading this I love you and think you're really cool thank youuu.

Neil scowled at the newspaper on his kitchen table. Well, more specifically the ad he knew was folded inside the pages. Written in typed, neat, black and white ink just like all the other rows of ads for dog sales and car sales and sales in general. 

He’d been the one to publish the ad, which made it that much worse. Everything about his life until this point– hell even at this point– was about skimming just below the radar. Staying out of everyone’s attention or as far in the periphery as he could manage. First it was staying carefully out of his father’s range and notice, then it was running from the eyes of his father’s people with his mother hand yanking at his hair and her hissing voice close in his ear reminding him that they’re close. _You’re stalling us. Stop speaking now. We need to move. Forget that name. Remember this one. And now it was keeping ahead of the cops and making sure no one connected the trail of bodies he was leaving scattered over the country._

Neil ran a hand through his hair, trying to sooth the phantom pains and ghosts of fingers that thinking of his mother brought up. He sighed and looked away from the paper finally, trying to console himself with the fact that the ad had already been publish, it wasn’t under his actual name (he’d used his middle and last initials. A.J.), and his mother was dead. Dead and burned. 

That was another memory he wasn’t feeling like reliving, so instead he took a sip of the scalding coffee he’d been making. It burned his tongue but shot him back into the present, out of the smoke and sand of that beach beneath the stars. 

He tossed the paper in the trash as he went to grab cream from the kitchen. He knew what the ad said, had it burned into his brain as he’d read and re-read it trying to decide whether or not it was the right decision. 

_Roommate wanted, must be quiet and able to clean up after themselves. Email me with inquiries._

Part of him knew it was vague and a horrible ad, but part of him hoped no one would answer and he could convince himself that he’d tried. 

People had answered though, three to be exact. The first two he’d written off, one asking if medium sized dogs were allowed– no– and the other wanting to know what kind of coffee he kept in the house. Neil hadn’t bothered responding to that one. 

But the third one had been a single line. 

Does the room have a door that locks.

Not even a question mark, or a name. The email said the person was an A. Minyard, and a quick google search hadn’t really gotten Neil much. Something about a car crash, some court cases Neil couldn’t be bothered to read, and a story about twins reuniting. The picture that had been taken for the article had actually made Neil laugh. Two boys– each with identical blond hair, roundish faces, and small statures– were scowling into the camera while a woman subtly fought to rest her hand on one of the boys shoulders. She looked a lot like them, except she was trying for a pained looking smile.

The exact same picture he realized was also used for her obituary. Just cropped to hide the twins.

But Neil didn’t really care, and he was running out of options so he’d responded with an equally thought provoking– _yes_. A. Minyard– who could have been either Aaron or Andrew if he was one of the twins Neil realized with some annoyance– had responded simply with a date and time and Neil had given him his address. (Even though his fingers froze when he tried to type it in and he couldn’t breathe right afterwards until he’d double and triple checked that all the doors and windows were locked and the cameras in place).

It had been a long time since Neil had been on the run. Actually, Neil Josten had never been on the run. Alex Crizewald, Chris Lucas, Stephan Waldridge, Nathaniel Wesninski and many more had been on the run. Neil Josten was a broke ex-college student working part time in a coffee shop down the street from his two bedroom apartment, he’d grown up in Virginia, and had a sister in Washington who he never talked to. 

Neil Abram Josten was Neil Abram Josten. He’d stopped being anyone else the day his mother was killed. 

Neil Abram Josten also had to get ready to meet A. Minyard, who was supposed to be coming over at 1:30. Neil almost groaned when he looked at his clock and it beamed 1:12 at him. He sipped at his coffee again, it tasted better now with cream, and it was less scalding, which was a relief for his already charred tongue.

Damn, and he’d wanted to get a shower.

He caught his own eye in the bathroom mirror as he decided to risk a quick shower anyways. He’d been at the gym down the street for the past couple of hours, trying desperately to run off the burn in the back of his head telling him to run. _Leave everything, you’ve been found. They know where you are, they’re coming. Run._

His eyes used to scare him, there wasn’t much special about them, but paired with the Wesninski red curls it made him look like a smaller, more pointy version of the very Butcher he’d run from all those years ago. He’d dyed his hair back to auburn and removed his contacts mostly for dramatic effect, and luckily now they didn’t remind him so much of his father. Well, that’s not totally true, they just reminded him of his mission– Neil Josten’s vendetta if you will. Also the stupid reason he needed a roommate in the first place.

Turns out, hunting down and killing every person to have worked for your father (and your father) takes a lot out of your day.

He tore his eyes away from the mirror and pulled off his clothes, rinsing off fast and changing back into a loose pair of sweatpants and a hoodie just a loud knock pounded on the door. Neil tried not to scowl too much as he opened the door. 

The first thing he noticed about A. Minyard was that he smelled like cigarettes and new car, which was an odd mix. Minyard was also shorter than Neil, which was slightly comforting– until Neil realized Minyard was nearly twice the size of him in muscle mass, that was not comforting. He was wearing all black, a pair of jeans, a dark t-shirt with a gray flannel around his waist and twin black armbands on both forearms. 

Neil was kind of impressed, it was the end of what felt like one of the worst summers ever and this guy didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed. In fact he looked downright bored, with hooded hazel eyes and nothing other than a lazy eyebrow arch as Neil opened the door. He looked almost exactly like the photo from the newspaper article, and not much taller. The only real difference was his build and a slight shadow of stubble on his chin. 

“A. Minyard?” Neil asked. 

“Sunshine Muffin 7260?” Minyard asked in a deadpanned tone, Neil winced. He kept forgetting he’d let Matt make him the email after his coworker had found out he didn’t have one. He kept meaning to change it, but he only ever used it to talk to Matt, and sometimes his boss– Matt’s fiancé Dan– since he didn’t keep a phone for more than a week. 

“Neil, actually,” Neil said, he didn’t bother to try for a handshake. From the cross-armed stance Minyard was holding Neil thought it wouldn’t be well received.

“Andrew,” he said simply, and Neil stepped aside to allow him to enter. He closed the door after Minyard– Andrew– walked in and then moved past him towards the kitchen.

“I have coffee?” he half asked, a little awkwardly. He wasn’t used to having guests in his apartment– still wasn’t exactly used to having an apartment–, but it was something Matt always said when he dragged Neil over for a movie night. 

“I’m good,” Andrew said, glancing around the apartment as he followed Neil into the kitchen. It wasn’t very big, the front door leading into a small living room that turned into a kitchen on the left side. The living room had a couch set up facing the TV, and there was a dead cactus Dan had gotten him sitting in the windowsill above the sink, but otherwise the room was completely undecorated. There was also a door leading to a bathroom through the kitchen, and a tiny hallway to where the two bedrooms were. Both identical, small rooms with a single window and a half closet.

“Cool, uh– so, your room would be down he hall, mine’s on the right–” Neil pointed down the hall, he didn’t mention that the room on the right had the window over his downstairs neighbors shrub garden, and that he’d picked that room because it would make a halfway decent escape route if needed. “There’s only one bathroom, that’s it there, and then the kitchen and the living room…” he drifted off, glancing around the apartment and fidgeting with his sleeve a little. “Umm, that’s pretty much it,” he said, forcing his eyes to land back on Minyard, who was still examining the apartment. He paused for a moment on the dead cactus, and then glanced questioningly at Neil, who smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“I’m not much of a– well I’m not very good at keeping things alive,” he said, then smiled a little wider at his own joke. Sustaining life was definitely a lot harder than watching it drain from someone’s eyes.

“Huh, can I smoke in here or are you a prude?” Minyard asked bluntly, and Neil raised a brow and smirked at his blank expression. 

“Not technically, but the smoke alarms in the rooms are shit if you open the window,” Neil said, and Minyard nodded. “You can take that as either the warning sign or invitation that it is,” Neil added, and Minyard eyed him carefully, somehow managing to peer at Neil down his nose despite being shorter.

“Can I see the room?” He asked instead of answering, and Neil nodded, gesturing down the hall. Minyard turned out of sight and Neil heard him try the handle of his own– thankfully locked– door. 

“Mine’s on the right,” Neil reminded him, poking his head into the hallway and then raised a brow at Minyard, “You remember my email down to the number but can’t remember your lefts and rights?” he mocked, and Minyard scowled at him, before disappearing into the room. Neil breathed a small laugh and went into the kitchen where his laptop was set up. With nothing better to do while he waited for Minyard to decide he opened it up and winced at the number of emails Matt and Dan had both sent him. He regretted mentioning Minyard coming over now. 

He closed the laptop instead of reading any of them and instead pulled out his phone. There was a new message, from an unknown number which wasn’t that unusual on Neil’s phone. He opened it and scanned the code. Well, it wasn’t much of a code, just written in French. It was from one of Neil’s newer contacts– one that apparently didn’t understand what Neil meant by confidential. There was GPS coordinates, and a date and time window for Neil to reach it by. Luckily it looked like he had a day, but his fingers itched to get the envelope he knew would be waiting at the site. Containing the names and information on his next victims. 

Neil had been hunting down the Butcher’s men for the years. It had been surprisingly easy at first, hunting down the weakest members and picking them off. But the higher up he got the more difficult it was proving– and the longer surveillance took. Neil hated surveillance. If he had any trust left he probably would hire someone to do it for him. But this wasn’t something he could risk– or put in someone else's hands.

The killing had been something to get used to– no, the feeling of killing. Killing was easy, you just stab the right place and the blood drains and the person goes limp and usually piss themselves. It’s not all that. 

But the exhilaration of adding another notch into his knife, of getting that much higher in the Wesninski ladder, it was frightening how much he’d started to understand that light in his fathers eyes. It helped a little to know everyone he was killing were monsters, working for a monster, but the first couple of kills had been messy as he dredged up the lessons from Lola and his father and tried to act them out. 

A dark part of his mind wished he was able to draw things out longer, to make sure his victims knew who was killing them and why. But another part was glad he didn’t, and knew he never would be able to do more than quick kills from the shadows.

There was also the fact that killing slow meant mess, and unfortunately Neil Josten didn’t have Nathan Wesninski’s murder budget. What a shame.

“I need to move in as soon as possible,” Minyard said, snapping Neil out of his thoughts and making him jump. For being such a heavy looking person he was startlingly quiet. Neil ran a hand through his hair. 

“That’s fine, I have work tomorrow but I get off by 11,” Neil said, and Minyard nodded.

“I’ll be here by 11:30,” he said curtly, and Neil laughed. 

“Hopefully the enthusiasm isn’t from some trouble you might be dragging in, that would be impolite,” he said, a very thinly veiled threat that he punctuated with his father’s smile– no his smile. Minyard scowled at him.

“I don’t think anything could be more trouble than you seem to be,” Minyard said flatly, and Neil laughed again, barely biting back the words you have no idea. 

“See you tomorrow roomie,” Neil grinned as Minyard gave him a last scathing look and then left. 

*****

“Surprise!” A voice shouted from behind Neil, and he jumped, reaching for a weapon he didn’t have on him as he whirled around. He relaxed once he recognized Matt’s grinning face and rolled his eyes.

“Are you going to shout that everytime you show up for your scheduled work time?” Neil asked as he finished refilling the to-go cups in the front of the cafe. Matt laughed and patted his shoulder.

“Dan and I have a bet to see who can get you to cuss first,” Matt explained and Neil gave him a flat look. 

“That’s the stupidest bet I’ve heard you guys make, and you were betting whether or not toe-jamb was one word or last week,” Neil said, finishing the cups and untying his apron, Matt laughed. He had a good laugh, like him it was large and unignorable and much too frequent. Matt seemed to know everyone, and he loved introducing Neil to people, which made Neil’s skin crawl. But Matt was also the closest thing to a friend Neil could say he ever had. 

Well, there was Kevin and Riko, but Neil didn’t think the wonder-twins counted as friends more than childhood acquaintances.

Matt had actually been Neil’s first roommate– aside from his mother (Neil tried not to wince at how that sounded), and had gotten him the job at the horribly named “Biscottea.”  
“And what did we learn from that?” Dan asked, suddenly appearing from the back room and making Matt beam. Neil sighed and recited Dan’s ‘lessons’ with a more than excited Matt. 

“‘Don’t argue with Dan, and hyphens count as one word.’” 

“Mmm, just like Boyd-Wilds,” Matt said, walking over to plant a kiss on Dan who smiled up at him. 

“I do like the sound of that word,” Dan agreed, “Hey babe,” she added. Which made Matt’s smile widen– impossibly– as he wrapped his arms around Dan, she hugged him back and they rocked for a moment. 

“Come here often?” Matt asked cheekily, and she rolled her eyes with faux annoyance. Neil tried his best to fade into the shadows, suddenly feeling like an intruder, and attempted to open the drawer where his time card was silently. It didn’t work– there was nothing less silent than that stupid drawer– and both Dan and Matt were focused back on him. 

“You going to meet your new roomie?” Matt asked, and Neil nodded. 

“Technically I already met him,” Neil muttered, but they both ignored him.

“Apparently he’s a grouch,” Dan said, crossing her arms over her chest as Neil handed his apron over to Matt, who furrowed his brow as he tied it on. 

“What’s that mean?” 

“He said like, four words the whole time, and called me a prude,” Neil explained, checking the clock to fill out the time on the card. Matt laughed. 

“Is he wrong though?” he asked, and Dan chuckled when Neil glared over at both of them. 

“Whatever, I’m going home,” he grumbled, before closing the drawer extra slowly so that it made a horrible screeching noise that caused most of the customers in the cafe to glare at him. Matt and Dan dramatically covered their ears and screamed. 

“Noo! Not the drawer!” Matt cried, and Neil rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

“Bye Spinster!” Dan called after him as he slammed the door behind him. He shook his head out and didn’t bother wiping the smile off his face. He glanced at his watch, 11:03 that meant he still had time to look over the new envelope before Minyard showed up. He sighed as he realized that wasn’t something he was going to be able to do in his own apartment with the new roommate.

He jogged back to the apartment, and took a quick shower to wash off the smell of the cafe and his jog before plopping down on the couch with the plain manila envelope. He turned on the TV, which was tuned to some sports channel reviewing an exy game from last night. 

Neil would never admit that he’d picked the station because it played mostly exy reviews. He’d told himself he wouldn’t even dip his toes in the risk of temptation by actually watching an exy game, but the review weren’t games. And, it wasn’t his fault they were on when he got home. 

Pure, unadulterated coincidence. 

Just like how the envelope was discarded so Neil could curl his knees up to his chest and get sucked into a slow motion replay of a play made by the captain of the Trojan’s team– Jeremy Knox.

Not that Neil knew that. That was a lie, the only thing Neil didn’t know about nearly every Class I exy team was the players numbers, because he needed some kind of deniability for his shabby example of self restraint. 

At least he didn’t have the stalker binder of Kevin and Riko anymore, now it was disguised as a cookbook in the kitchen. Though he had kept tabs on them both, enough to know that Kevin had suffered a nasty injury that made it impossible for him to play exy anymore. Neil was pretty sure he’d decided to become a history major and coach the local exy teams. He and Dan actually coached one of the community ones together, and Neil had heard plenty about the arrogant son of exy and his “perfectionist” and “douchwad” tendencies from Dan. 

Soon enough there was a pounding on the door that jerked Neil out of his exy hole. He glanced wistfully at the screen and switched it to a regular news station before getting up. He stuffed the envelope behind the fridge on his way to the door and checked the peep hole. Spotting the top of Minyard’s blond head he opened the door. 

Minyard was dressed drastically different from yesterday. Neil raised a brow at the choice of light-washed jeans and a bright orange Palmetto State hoodie. 

“Are you having an identity crisis?” he asked, frowning at the way Minyard glared at him with more emotion than he’d all of yesterday.

“Not Andrew,” he growled, and Neil nodded in realization.

“Oooh, you’re Aaron,” he said, and Aaron furrowed his brow. 

“He mentioned me?” he asked, sounding surprised and Neil laughed. 

“No,” he said, which made Aaron look more confused. “Did he pay you to move him in? Cause that would be hilarious.” that made Aaron bristle, but before he could say anything the sound of german drifted up from the stairs. Neil cocked his head as he listened to what sounded like a phone conversation. 

“...no, I’m not telling you that. Does it sound like I care about your whiny needs?” The voice deadpanned. There was a pause and then the other Minyard appeared at the top of the stairs. He looked as bored as he had yesterday and was wearing all black again. This time though he had an Arctic Monkeys AM shirt and ripped jeans. Neil tried not to roll his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if–” he sucked in a long, frustrated sounding breath as he was cut off. “No, you will not waste away without details,” he said, pausing for a moment to listen and then sighed. “Then die.” and he hung up. Neil stifled a laugh as Aaron and Andrew shared a look. 

“How’s Nicky?” Aaron asked smugly in german, and Andrew rolled his eyes, tossing the phone at him as it rang.

“This is Aaron,” Andrew introduced curtly, and Neil smirked. 

“He knows,” Aaron muttered in german, hanging up the phone without picking up he call, and Andrew gave Neil an odd look. 

“Knows what, you know I hate vague statements.” he said, not taking his eyes off Neil. 

“He knew who I was, I thought you told him but he said you didn’t,” Aaron explained, and Andrew’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Neil tried to smile innocently, but he had a feeling it didn’t work. 

“Google is a thing Aaron, stop being paranoid. Go get something from the car,” Andrew snapped a little too sharply to be truly convincing. Aaron seemed to realize this, because he cast a wary look between Andrew and Neil and then reluctantly left for the stairs. 

“He’s off so soon?” Neil asked, and Andrew stared him down for a while longer. 

“There’s stuff in the car,” he said finally, and Neil nodded. 

“Cool, need help? How much do you have?” he asked, Andrew took another lengthy sigh before answering. 

“There’s two cars,” Andrew said, before turning and leaving for the stairs again, Neil assumed that meant yes and followed him down. They passed Aaron on the way down, and Neil tensed at the thought of him being in the apartment without Neil there to supervise. Andrew noticed, and raised a brow. 

“Worried he’ll steal your dead plant?” he asked dryly, Neil smiled mockingly. 

“It’s name is Marshall,” Neil said, Dan had insisted on his naming it, but it had only proven to make him feel worse about telling her he’d killed it. He tried not to pause to much on the fact that he was more guilty over the death of Marshall then the twenty plus people he’d killed.

“ _Was,_ ” Andrew corrected, before resuming the walk to the cars. Neil clenched his jaw and glared after him, before muttering a couple curses under his breath before following him.

Neil immediately spotted the cars. He didn’t claim to know a single thing about cars, except that the one that Andrew unlocked looked insanely expensive. Next to it there was a large, old looking blue truck stacked full of furniture. Neil almost choked, it seemed to reek permanence. 

_Not your stuff. Not your stuff. Not your stuff._

He tried to console himself as a girl jumped down out of the truck. She was wearing a flowy looking skirt that had a map of the world on it and a plain green shirt on. Her dirty-blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail and she seemed to bounce over to Neil, grinning widely as she stuck out her hand.

“Hey, I’m Katelyn,” she said, sounding as bubbly as she looked. Neil smiled weakly and shook her hand. 

“Neil,” he said.

“Nice to meet you, by the way I love your hair, is that a natural color or do you dye it?” she asked, blue eyes bright and sincere. 

“Natural,” Neil said on reflex, it was a little odd to realize he was telling the truth. Katelyn’s eyes widened and she reached out like she was going to touch it. Neil flinched slightly and she pulled back.

“ _Sorry,_ sorry, that’s my bad, I should have asked,” she said, casting a wary glance back to Andrew, who didn’t appear to have noticed the interaction and was busy pulling something out of the fancy car. Neil furrowed his brow, but before he could think too much about it Aaron suddenly appeared. 

“Kate, can you give me a hand?” he asked, subtly dragging his girlfriend away from Neil. He was glad, her cheerfulness was exhausting. 

“No problem,” she said, and they both started undoing the ties keeping all the furniture in place. Neil got another near overwhelming sense of panic, and he dragged a hand through his hair to try and calm himself down. 

“Here,” Andrew said, suddenly shoving a box into Neil’s arms. Neil glared at him.

“Thanks,” he said sarcastically, before looking at the box and realizing it was an animal carrier. He frowned and peeked inside to see a fluffy looking black and white cat glaring at him. 

“Hope you’re not allergic to cats,” Andrew said with a small smirk.

“What the fuck is this?” Neil hissed, which made Andrew’s smirk grow. 

“Therapy animal, her name’s King, you should introduce her to the apartment.” Andrew said, before running off to go ‘help’ Aaron unload the truck by standing over his shoulder and snapping at him to be more careful with the furniture. Neil glared between the cat and Andrew before growling and turning away. 

“I’m throwing it down the stairs!” he called over his shoulder.

“I dare you,” Andrew replied, and Neil glared again. 

“Fuck you.”  
*******


	2. Andrew Wants $200

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew and Neil start trading truths and Andrew figures out it's hilarious to piss Neil off. Also King plays favorites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmm, so far this feels lowkey boring so I promise next chapter will be more exciting (murder boy gets to murder). Andrew P.O.V!!! He's hard to write?? Not sure how well I pulled off his vibe but hopefully this turned out decent. I've got long flights tomorrow so I might crank out another chapter and post it earlier than Wed. cause I don't know what a schedule is but I dunno cause traveling suxxx. Thank you also?? to everyone who's commenting and bookmarking??? You're amazing and I love you, you golden rays of sunshine.

Andrew decided pretty quickly that saying Neil Josten was trouble was like saying a tornado was trouble: correct, but horribly understated. 

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Neil stood in the kitchen and argued with someone in rapid french. Neil paced in the kitchen and grumbled things until eventually he hung up and snapped the phone in half. Discarding the broken pieces into the trash and running a hand through his hair while giving a frustrated growl. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Andrew drawled, taking another bite of the sweet strawberry rhubarb pie Neil had brought back to the apartment. After a day or two of watching the perfectly good sweets go to waste untouched Andrew had just started eating them. Neil had yet to complain and Andrew wasn’t going to stop until he mentioned it– actually, he probably wouldn’t even if he did. The pie was amazing.

“Nothing, just people being jackasses who can’t manage to follow _simple_ instructions,” he hissed, coming over and dropping down on the couch to cross his arms and glare at the TV. He sat on the opposite end, putting as much space between him and Andrew as he could while sitting. Andrew was glad, it probably would have been a pain to deal with stabbing him. And, he wasn’t sure he wanted to give away his best advantage, he didn’t Neil had noticed the knives tucked in his armbands yet. 

Andrew scraped another bite of the pie off the bottom of the to-go container. 

“Isn’t that Dan’s pie?” Neil asked suddenly, and Andrew shrugged as he chewed the bite. 

“I don’t know a Dan,” he said, and Neil rolled his eyes but looked back at the TV, which was playing the Ted Bundy Tapes. Andrew had studied the cases last year for class, there wasn’t anything particularly interesting about them, just another arrogant, wack-job, misogynist, but the series made for a decent time killer. 

Thinking about class reminded him of the cases he was currently looking at, spread out in his bedroom ready to be pinned up on the walls. Wymack and Kevin both called him crazy for it, but he knew there was a connection. He’d stumbled on all the victims by accident, searching through old cold cases for the summer assignment his professor had given him– _research and provide a report about a cold case. Solve it if you can._ (Andrew liked his professor, she was very straightforward)– when he’d stumbled on a pattern. 

It was barely anything, but Andrew could still see the pictures, paperclipped to the top of the autopsy reports Wymack got for him. There was no pattern in the bodies, a wide variety of people with different genders, age, social status, and race, which ruled out targeted killing– at least so far. They’d also been found all over the east coast, which was odd since most of them lived in Maryland. 

The only similarities in the cases were that all of the victims had been killed with a knife (one even slash staring on the left side of the neck and efficiently severing the carotid artery. Meaning killer was probably right handed, and most likely attacked from behind) and each of them– aside from the occasional bruises– had two cuts applied posthumously to the corners of the mouth.

It was small. So small that both Kevin and Wymack– and even Aaron and Nicky– thought Andrew was reaching. The cuts could have just been a coincidence, but Andrew had a feeling they weren’t. He had a good feeling he’d stumbled on something big. And whatever it was, happened to be a lot more interesting than spending nights pretending he could bully himself into sleep by staring at a wall and battling his subconscious into silence.

And, if the cases were connected that meant two things: a) Kevin owed him $200, and b) there was a serial killer on the loose that was nearly too good to be caught. The idea of that itself was enough to pull Andrew out of bed to scroll through his computer and try and map out where each of the victims had been found and dig through archives and emails and so much reading to try and find another, more conclusive way to prove they were all connected. 

They had to be. Andrew needed to see the looks on Kevin and Wymack’s faces when he proved it, and the $200 would be nice. 

He pondered for a moment what to spend it on that would piss off Kevin the most. He decided on cotton-candy ice cream, and took his last bite of pie before standing up and tossing the to-go container in the garbage on his way to his room. 

On his way though he changed his mind and turned back into the kitchen. The case could wait, but he’d gone long enough without questioning his new roommate– who was was turning out to be more and more of a mystery by the day. And by mystery Andrew meant threat. 

“Could you grab my laptop while you’re there?” Neil asked, barely turning his head away from the TV, and Andrew pursed his lips, electing to ignore him and sit back down on the couch. Neil breathed a laughed. “Alright then,” he said, and Andrew turned off the TV. 

“I’ve got some questions,” he started, and Neil raised a mocking brow that Andrew decided it would be healthy to also ignore. “And I expect honesty, what’s that going to cost?” he continued, leaning back against the arm of the couch and folding his arms over his chest. Neil laughed, like Andrew had said a joke. 

“Mmm, it’ll cost you…” he pretended to think for a moment, before he looked back at Andrew with bright eyes. They were astonishingly blue and Andrew couldn’t not notice how attractive his new roommate was. All lean, lithe runners muscle and sharp wit. But he wouldn’t admit it to anyone– except maybe Bee– because Andrew was realistic and knew nothing would come of it. One night stands only really work when you have separate houses to leave to. “The same,” Neil decided finally, and Andrew raised a brow. “I’m a man of equality,” he said with a too sharp smile that Andrew didn’t want to like. 

“Who were you talking to on the phone?” Andrew asked bluntly. There wasn’t any point in beating around the bush, it was late, and Andrew wanted to see if Wymack had gotten back to him on the newest body Kevin had mentioned the other day. Neil froze for a second, his eyes flickering over Andrew like he was trying to decide something. His posture got tense even though he tried to force himself to relax and Andrew suppressed a smirk.

“A contact,” Neil said vaguely, and Andrew got the annoying feeling this was going to be like pulling teeth. He took his answer though and waited expectantly for Neil to take his turn. When he didn’t press a flash of surprise went over Neil’s face, but it was gone as soon as it had come. 

“Who’s Tilda?” he asked. Andrew suddenly felt close to laughing.

“A mother,” Andrew said, purposefully vague, Neil scowled at him. Apparently expecting that to rattle Andrew, but it didn’t. Anyone with a name could get googled, and Andrew had plenty about himself published in newspapers.

“ _Your_ mother?” Neil pressed, and Andrew let a smirk rise. 

“Is that a turn?” he asked, and Neil glared but shut his mouth. Andrew mulled over what his next question should be for a second. “Where do you work,” he said finally, then, “besides the cafe,” he added when Neil started to answer. Neil dragged a hand through his hair to hide the start of a smile.

“Nowhere, just Biscottea,” he answered, Andrew glared at him flatly, and Neil raised his hands defensively, “Honest, I don’t get paid for anything else,” he said. 

“Hm.” Andrew hummed tightly, Neil smiled like he was pleased with himself, and it made Andrew more annoyed. 

“What about you? Where do you work?” he asked, leaning back against the couch arm across from Andrew. 

“Pallas,” he answered curtly. It was a tiny restaurant that– despite the name– had nothing to do with war or gods and was instead a shockingly mediocre steakhouse that Andrew washed dishes for and sometimes tended the bar of. Back when he’d lived in Columbia with Aaron and Nicky he’d worked at Eden’s Twilight, but now Columbia was too far away from campus so he and Aaron had moved into Palmetto state’s dorms. This year though Aaron had decided to move in with Katelyn, who had her own apartment nearby. The college had already lined up people to replace Aaron in Andrew’s dorm and the idea of having to sleep next to someone he didn’t know made Andrew feel slightly sick. Then he had been told about Neil’s ad from Kevin, who’d heard from some girl he coached with that her friend was looking for a roommate. It was still him staying with someone he didn’t trust, but at least they had walls and locks he could shut between them. That gave him an idea though. 

“What’s your real name?” Andrew asked, and Neil froze again, but this time he looked like he’d been forced to swallow a fish. He swallowed thickly, and curled in on himself slightly. 

“Neil Josten,” he said, and Andrew grinned. 

“I said honesty Neil,” he tsked, and Neil glared at him, still looking pale. 

“That _is_ honesty, my name is Neil,” he said through gritted teeth, and Andrew stood up. 

“Where are you– It’s my turn!” Neil called, scrambling up to follow Andrew down the hall. Andrew ignored him and tried to close the door but suddenly Neil’s hand was in the way. Andrew glared at him. 

“Let go,” he said, tone warning and Neil stared him down.

“No, fuck you,” Neil said, “You don’t get to storm off just to prove a point, I didn’t even do anything!” he argued, and Andrew raised a brow, letting go of the door and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Really?” he asked, and Neil threw his hands up in frustration. Andrew tried not to smile. As much as it pissed him off that Neil thought he could lie and get away with it, it was hilarious watching him get all riled up.

“Yes!” he said exasperatedly, and Andrew smirked. 

“Alright _Neil,_ ” he started, and Neil made a relieved face. “Goodnight.” Andrew said, slamming the door shut in Neil’s face. He could hear Neil groan in frustration through the door. 

“FUCK you!” he growled, before stomping back down the hall. Andrew heard the front door open and slam shut– probably to go running or something– and he rolled his eyes. King made an annoyed hissing noise at being woken up, and she jumped off the bed to butt her head against Andrew’s calves. He reached down and scratched her head before opening the window so she could go outside for a bit onto the fire escape and she darted out. 

After a couple of minutes of silence Andrew opened his door again and went down the hall to the kitchen. He smiled smugly at the sight of Neil’s keys on the kitchen table and locked the front door before coming to stand in front of Neil’s bedroom door.

He figured he had at least fifteen minutes, probably more, before Neil returned. That was enough time to take a peek. The door was locked, but it was a shabby lock and Andrew had it picked in no time and swung the door open. 

He took a moment to stand in the doorway and take in the full room. It looked almost identical to his own, except that Neil had less. Which was saying a lot, because all Andrew had currently was a dresser, bed, nightstand, and an armchair. 

Other than the plain bed and the empty looking dresser Neil’s room looked like he’d only just moved in. That made Andrew frown. It wasn’t completely unexpected, the rest of the house has the same, bare-minimum, utilitarian vibe to it, but it did make Neil that much more suspicious. 

And interesting. 

No, not interesting. He wasn’t interesting at all and Andrew didn’t give a shit about his stupid empty room. 

Andrew stalked across the room and opened the dresser drawer, digging through the clothes– carefully putting everything back the way it had been– and finding about a duffle-bags worth of stuff. Odd…  
In the bottom drawer Andrew found a cookbook. He opened it up and flipped through it, finding coded notes scribbled in the margins and more code written on sheets of paper scattered throughout. He closed the book after a moment and set it back exactly where he’d found it. He was pressing his luck on time, so he closed the drawer and re-locked the door as he left. 

Turns out he didn’t need to worry about it though, because Neil didn’t come back for another half hour, which Andrew spent reading through a case file about a Romero Malcolm, found dead in Baltimore with the odd cuts on his lips. He was the most recent victim, from about a week ago, a couple of days before Andrew had moved in with Neil. Andrew frowned as his eyes caught on the cuts, these looked deeper, more severe. And apparently he’d had numerous defensive wounds all over. His neck slash also started on the right side, like the killer had stabbed him from the front.

That didn’t seem right though. Everything about the killer so far had been meticulous and careful. Victims were killed fast, probably without even catching a glimpse of him. He dumped the bodies far away from anyone who might know them, and he usually didn’t make the cuts so noticeable that even Wymack gave Andrew a heavy look as he handed over the file.

Something was off about this case, Andrew just couldn’t figure it out.

Suddenly he heard the door open, and he narrowed his eyes at his closed door. He knew he’d seen Neil’s keys, which meant either Neil had picked the lock to get in or had an extra set of keys. He made a mental note to bring it up again later. For now he sat still, listening to the sound of Neil moving around in the kitchen and getting a glass of water before he made his way toward Andrew. A knock on the door made Andrew frown. He tossed the file on his bed and got up, opening the door wide so he could lean in the frame and crossing his arms over his chest.

Neil was standing there, looking slightly out of breath and pink-cheeked from his run (which Andrew was _not noticing._ Or caring about. Or thinking about). He also wouldn’t meet Andrews eyes. 

“Listen, you’re right, I lied about the name thing– kind of. But I’m not going to share my actual name, and Neil is all you have to know,” Neil started, sounding like he’d practiced this in his head. Andrew arched a brow. “Alright?” he prompted when Andrew didn’t say anything, and finally lifted his eyes to meet Andrews. They stared each other down for a bit before Andrew sighed. 

“Fine, but if this bites me in the ass I’ll kill you,” he said, and Neil grinned.

“Sounds fun,” he said, then his eyes flickered over Andrew’s shoulder into the room. They landed on the case file on the bed. 

“Ooh, what’s that?” he asked, back to his usual, annoying self and Andrew rolled his eyes again. 

“A dead body,” he replied flatly, and Neil perked up subtly, Andrew tried not to raise his brow. 

“Whose?” he asked, and Andrew sighed, but went over and tossed the case file at Neil. There wasn’t anything to lose by sharing it with Neil, and besides, Andrew’s eyes were aching, he needed some fresh ideas even if they were coming out of an idiot’s head. Neil frowned as he flicked through the case file.

“Romero Malcolm, killed in Baltimore last week,” Andrew summarized, rubbing at his eyes. 

“So?” Neil asked, and Andrew couldn’t help the smile that creeped up on his face. 

“I think he’s victim number 23 for the east coast’s newest and most effective serial killer,” he said, and Neil blinked at him, and then laughed. Full on, doubled over, close to tears laughter. Andrew raised a bored eyebrow and wondered vaguely if he should call someone. 

“You– oh, thats– I’m sorry, _what?_ ” Neil finally managed. Andrew shrugged.

“There’s a pattern, its small, but there. The victims die the same way, they’re all from Maryland, and there’s the cuts,” Andrew said, now more talking to himself than Neil as he started pacing around the room. King had returned, slinking back into the apartment through the open window and meowing happily when she noticed Neil. She’d taken a very annoying shine to him, which he seemed unable to admit pleased him. As she bounced over to him he kneeled down to scratch her and she purred loudly.

“Huh, 23 victims? Why haven’t the cops caught him yet?” Neil asked, and Andrew barked a laugh.

“Because they’re useless, and…” Andrew slowed off suddenly and stopped pacing as something occurred to him. “Are there any gangs in Maryland?” he asked, already pulling out his phone. Neil gave him an odd look. 

“Uh, I don’t know, it’s Maryland,” he said sarcastically, and Andrew ignored him, typing out a quick message to Renee. She responded by calling him, which made Andrew scowl at his phone but he picked up anyways.

“Good evening Andrew, how are you?” she asked, sounding her usual tone of sickeningly polite with a hint of passive aggression. 

“Do you know?” Andrew asked instead of answering, and he heard her sigh. 

“Andrew, you really need to work on your personal skills, you’re becoming very unappealing to talk to you know,” she said teasingly and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Hi Renee, you sound like Kevin, do you know or not?” he said, and Neil frowned. 

“Kevin Day?” he asked from where he was sitting with King, and Andrew shushed him.

“Shh, the adults are talking,” he said, earning another glare from Neil as Renee sighed on her end. 

“Yes, unfortunately, there’s a man who works out of Baltimore, goes by the Butcher, but his actual name is Wesninski, Nathan Wesninski.” she explained and Andrew hummed. Renee was a fellow Palmetto state student, she played on the exy team and was getting a psychology degree, which meant she and Andrew shared classes. She was also the only person aside from Aaron that Andrew bothered talking to– mostly because of her, _unique,_ past. 

“Thank you Renee, say hi to god for me,” she said, mock-cheer coating his voice. He only caught the start of Renee’s sigh before he hung up. Neil looked up at him questioningly– King was sitting in his lap, tail flicking around and ears twitching in annoyance as Neil lifted his hand and stopped petting her.

“I think this guy works for Baltimore’s Butcher.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ho ho, welcome to the end notes. WOw it's weird having a word count cause that's a lotta words. Oh also I have a tumblr its @luci-cunt say hay if ya wanna I love the sound of my own voice. That expression doesn't really work for this medium but I'm not gonna change it. Commitment y'all


	3. Neil Kills a Man and Tells the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mentions of scars/ self harm/ rape (non-explicit) (Andrew's backstory gets brought up) and Neil has a panic attack, also Neil kills someone so watch out for that. If you have questions message me on tumblr and I'll fill you in (@Luci-Cunt) and Andrew tells Neil the beta version of his most infamous line (yes it will be added in, it's iconic, I can't NOT)

Works for the Butcher.

_For?_

Neil had been hunting and killing his fathers men for the past three years, covering his tracks and cleaning up after himself. Moving bodies, erasing traces of himself and making everything about his kills efficient and unconnectable.

And the first person to make the connection is a) his fucking _roommate,_ and b) thinks he _works_ for the _Butcher._

Neil scowled silently from where he was waiting in the backseat of a silver car that wasn’t his. 

He was trying to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that it was probably better that Andrew didn’t get the theory right because if he did he’d be one step closer to Neil and that could turn out problematic. 

But _worked for._

_Worked for the Butcher._

He growled and continued trying to burn a hole in the dashboard with his glare. Then out of the corner of his eye he noticed movement. He looked up, trying to shove down his frustration because fuck if he was going to let _Andrew Minyard_ distract him. 

Fuck Andrew Minyard.

Lucas DeWall exited his apartment– finally– and made his way over to the car Neil was sitting in. Neil was waiting in the back seat behind the drivers side, and he adjusted himself. Killing DeWall in a car wasn’t exactly how he wanted this to go down. It was going to be a pain to move the dead weight over so he could drive away from the scene, and he’d probably have to sit in blood. That sucked. 

But Neil had been watching DeWall for the past two days, staking him out and discovering his patterns and it was safe to say that Lucas DeWall was probably the most boring criminal ever. He’d left his apartment twice in two days to go down the street for tacos– and drove every time even though it was two blocks down the street. 

Neil had broken into his apartment to find it filled to the brim with garbage and so much DVD porn. Neil didn’t even realize you could still buy DVD porn. Well, he didn’t really know how to buy porn in general so he might be biased. He just didn’t get the point of watching other people have sex, it was weird, and not something he wanted to waste his limited budget on.

DeWall unlocked the car and walked around the side. Neil palmed his knife and clenched his hand around the handle.

_Because the killer’s right handed._

_How the hell do you know which hand the killer uses?_

_The stab wound._

Neil scowled and tried not to growl in frustration and tried to focus on Lucas DeWall.

_Remember, you’ve got a fucking victim to kill._

Neil resisted the urge to run his gloved hand through his hair as DeWall climbed into the car. It was four in the morning, and he still looked bleary eyed as he adjusted himself. Neil waited, watching in the backseat until DeWall met his eyes in the rearview mirror. DeWall’s eyes widened in terror. 

“Wesninski?” He whispered fearfully, and Neil grinned.

“You wish,” and then reached around the seat and stabbed him in the neck. DeWall choked, too shocked to struggle for a second or two until his situation hit him. Neil switched hands to get better leverage and pushed the blade away from himself, cutting a gaping slice in the right side of DeWall’s throat. _How’s that work for your pattern Minyard._ He thought smugly as blood spurted from the artery and covered the interior of the car in splatters of red. DeWall clawed at Neil’s arms for a moment, catching the thick material of his jacket, and gasped for breath.

Neil frowned as DeWall writhed for a moment and then finally went limp. 

_God, that’s going to be gross to sit in._

He allowed himself a moment to pity himself before pulling up his hood and getting up out of he car, making sure to turn off the overhead light as he left. He went to the passengers side and started to pull DeWall over– he got caught a couple times on the gear shift but other than that it went as smoothly as dragging 300 lbs of dead weight could. 

Neil sank down into the blood stained drivers seat and huffed an annoyed breath as he felt blood soak into his pants, that was going to be fun to wash out. Then he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. 

Neil drove for a while, taking planned turns and twists to get to the outer parts of Baltimore with only a dead body to keep him company. He was glad— dead bodies couldn’t talk.

He’d have to catch a flight back, mostly because he told Matt he was visiting his sister in Washington, and Matt had made him agree to let him pick Neil up at the airport. Which complicated things, because Neil was not going to Washington, and he didn’t have a sister. 

Neil finally pulled over at the maintenance entrance to some park. It was out of the way and hopefully the body wouldn’t be discovered until after Neil had returned to South Carolina. Part of the reason he’d chosen South Carolina was because it was so far away. Police were a hell of a lot less likely to suspect someone who had to travel over two states just to kill their victims.

Neil got out of the drivers side and went around to where DeWall was slumped over– still completely dead– and hesitated as he held up his knife. 

If he was being completely honest, the cuts felt stupid and gimmick-y. Especially now that someone other than Nathan Wesninski had connected them. But he still needed some way, some proof that it _had_ been him to kill all of the Butcher’s men. That way there would be no way for Nathan Wesninski to argue with him when Neil finally tracked him down and killed him. 

He had a feeling he would be the hardest one to kill, him and Lola Malcolm. He was also glad he’d been so careful to not leave witnesses because if Lola ever caught on to the fact that he’d been the one to kill Romero– well, Neil was as dead as DeWall. 

Neil shook himself out of his thoughts and cut DeWalls cheeks. Then he jogged the mile to the actual park’s entrance where he’d stashed another car. Unfortunately he hadn’t thought to pack another pair of clothes. He’d packed three outfits for the three days he was staying but that consisted of one hoodie, one long sleeve shirt, and two pairs of jeans. He remembered Andrew mentioning something about his lack of fashion expertise and gritted his teeth– hating to admit that the jerk was probably right about needing to pack more changes of clothes.

Whatever, he’d survived with worse, and Matt probably wouldn’t notice that he was wearing the same jeans he’d been wearing when he left South Carolina. 

****

“Aren’t those the pants you were wearing when I dropped you off?” Matt asked as soon as Neil exited the airport. Neil tried not to groan. 

“I spilled coffee on my other pair,” he explained, climbing into Matt’s huge truck as Matt gave him an arched eyebrow as a response– looking extremely unimpressed as he got in on the drivers side.

“Your other _pair?_ As in you only brought two pairs of jeans for a three day weekend?” he pressured and Neil dragged a hand through his hair. He wasn’t in the mood for this, the plane ride had been boring and restless and his arms were sore from dealing with DeWall. 

“Yes,” he sighed eventually, and Matt rolled his eyes.

“We’re having a talk about your ideas of packing, christ you’re like a chaotic minimalist,” he muttered, and Neil was glad when he turned up the radio instead of hammering into Neil anymore. “So how’s having a roommate been?” Matt asked when the songs turned to the radio host’s animated chatter. Neil shrugged.

“Fine,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, having a roommate wasn’t that bad. But having Andrew Minyard, the five foot tall criminology major with a serious emoting malfunction was anything but fine. After Neil had seen the first couple of case files on Andrew’s study (of Neil himself) Andrew had relaxed about hiding it so much and now everywhere Neil went in the apartment he found case files and sticky notes and pictures and locations and theories about his own murders. It was getting concerning and annoying.

Though– he could admit it was pretty funny to see how frustrated it made Andrew when he ran into a dead end. So far the things he couldn’t figure out were a) _who_ was doing the killing (Neil) b) _why_ they were doing the killing (revenge mostly) and c) _how_ they were managing to do it (pure spite). Neil smiled as he thought about how on the night he’d left for “Washington” he’d found Andrew drunk in the living room muttering about over complicated and overdramatic disposal methods.

“Oh, really?” Matt said, startling Neil out of his thoughts. When he looked over Matt was raising his eyebrows suggestively and Neil scowled at him, shoving his shoulder.

“Not like that you perv,” he growled, and Matt laughed.

“Alright, whatever you say, but I better be your best man,” he teased and Neil opened the car door as Matt slowed to a stop at at stop sign. He would have bailed completely out if Matt hadn’t held his seatbelt in place– still laughing. It took a shocked second for Neil to realize if it had been anyone else to grab him like that he would have broken their arm. “Whoa! _Whoa_ alright! Sorry, I won’t bring it up again jeez,” he said, and Neil buckled his seatbelt again and closed the door.

They chatted idly about Matt and Dan’s planning for their wedding and Neil flat out lying about his time with his “sister.” Neil didn’t think he’d ever even been to Washington before.

No, that’s not true at all. Seattle was in Washington Neil realized suddenly. He smelled smoke start to fill up the car even though there clearly wasn’t any and sucked in a deep breath when Matt finally parked the truck in front of Neil’s apartment building and he jumped out. 

“Alright, see you Friday! I’ll tell Dan you said hi,” Matt called as Neil pulled his duffel bag out of the truck. Just as Neil was slamming the door shut he added, “And say hey to Andrew for me!” Neil flipped him off and made his way up to the apartment. He fumbled with the keys for a minute and mentally cursed himself for focusing so much on cardio at the gym. When he finally managed to swing the door open King was immediately underfoot. 

She meowed– screamed– at him instantly and he bent down to pet her.

“Oh no, he’s back,” Neil heard Andrew’s familiar drawl from on the couch. He had a pint of Ben & Jerry's cookie dough ice cream in his hands and what looked like the biggest spoon Neil owned. There was some crime documentary on and case files– _Neil’s_ case files– scattered on the table. There was also a Kevin Day sitting on the floor, surrounded by notes and books. Neil froze as he spotted him.

“Who? Oh, the roommate, hi I’m–” Kevin paused and frowned as he looked up finally and spotted Neil. Dread settled into every bone of Neil’s body. If Kevin recognized him he’d have to kill both Andrew and Kevin and move. He didn’t know if he’d be able to take Andrew though, maybe if he did it quickly enough he could use the advantage of surprise. But killing him would look suspicious, seeing as how he’d been so close to solving this case and then he, Kevin Day– the fallen son of exy and prize winning author– and Neil Josten all go missing in one day? Fuck, there was no good way to fix this. “You look familiar…” he murmured, narrowing his eyes at Neil and Neil tried not to fidget. 

“I’ve just got one of those faces I guess,” Neil said weakly, and even Andrew narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, uh, I’m friends with Dan?” he added, and slight recognition passed over Kevin’s face. He still looked unsatisfied but the mention of Dan was enough to get him away from the subject– to Neil’s relief.

“Mm, yeah, she’s mentioned you a couple of times…” Kevin admitted, which didn’t seem to satisfy Andrew, who was still watching Neil suspiciously. “Does he know about the case?” Kevin asked Andrew, moving on, and Andrew reluctantly drug his gaze away from Neil to glare at Kevin.

“Yeah I know,” Neil answered for him, and plopped down on the couch next to Andrew to scan over the files. Kevin’s eyes got an odd light in them as he excitedly flipped through a couple files. The fingers on is left hand didn’t seem to move as well as the one’s on the right, and as Neil watched he realized Kevin could barely even bend his wrist. He’d known Kevin’s injury had been the downfall of his exy career, but he hadn’t really expected it to be that debilitating.

“Ok, so Andrew– thanks to Renee– figured out that this guy’s probably working for the Butcher right?” he said, and Neil’s stomach curdled and he fought not to scowl. Luckily Kevin bulldozed on and didn’t give him a chance to give himself away. “ _But,_ then we realized that everyone he’s killed is one of the Butcher’s men, so at first we thought maybe like an inner killer or something, weeding out the betrayers and such–” he continued, and Neil got a different sick feeling in his stomach. “ _But,_ then we realized he’s _only_ killing the Butcher’s people and then–”

“He’s hunting the Butcher and trying to take him down by himself,” Andrew interrupted and Kevin gave him a scandalized look, green eyes full of contempt.

“That was– I was _getting_ there, Andrew!” he nearly whined and Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Not fast enough, I was getting bored,” he said, spooning another bite of ice cream. Kevin scowled at him.

“So? I don’t see how this helps,” Neil prompted, the more he knew about what they knew the better. 

“So? _So?_ Neil this is a _breakthrough,_ it means that whoever it is has to have insider knowledge to know who to hunt down and the expertise to go undetected for so long.” Kevin said, sounding excited. 

“It means I’m $200 richer, and right,” Andrew said, scraping the last of his ice cream off the bottom of the tub as Kevin glared at him again. 

“It _means,_ there’s actually a case here, and, a suspect,” Kevin explained pointedly, “And, we can also predict where he’s going to kill next. It’s either going to be the Butcher’s men or possibly the Moriyamas.” Neil frowned. 

“Who are the Moriyamas? And you have a suspect?” he asked, and Kevin winced. 

“Well, technically two suspects, and the Moriyamas... are kind of... uh–”

“The Moriyama are the American branch of the Yakuza and they boss the Butcher around,” Andrew summed up, ignoring Kevin's terrified look and tossing his empty ice cream container at Neil. “Grab me another one?” he asked with a faux cheery grin, and Neil scowled at him. “I can stop buying cigarettes,” he threatened, and Neil grumbled but got up and pulled another pint of ice cream out. Pointedly grabbing the plain vanilla one out because he knew Andrew didn’t like it. “And, Wesninski had two family members, one wife and one son. One day they both up and vanished– can’t really blame ‘em pops couldn’t have been very gentle– but they’re the only one’s we can think of with motive to do this and the intel needed,”

At the mention of Wesninski and Mary Neil’s hand gripped into the ice cream pint and the top popped off as he handed it to Andrew. Who raised a brow, and then scowled at the flavor choice. 

“Something wrong?” he asked, and Neil sucked in a breath. 

“Mary Wesninski is dead. So is her son.” he whispered, before all but running to his room. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Struggling to breath against all the smoke that was choking his lungs. There was smoke all over the room and his skin was itchy with sand and the left side of his felt hot and fire warmed and he could _smell_ his–

Suddenly there was pounding on his door. 

“Neil.” Andrew’s voice called and Neil blinked. 

Neil. Neil Josten. Neil Abram Josten. Nathaniel Wesninski is dead. Mary Hatford is dead. Nathan Wesninski is going to die. Neil Josten is alive. Alive and sitting on the floor of his apartment having a panic attack.

He got to his feet shakily and opened the door slowly. Andrew was standing in the doorway, and he watched Neil carefully. His face showed no emotion, which Neil was thankful for.

“Feeling like coming clean or am I going to have to do the whole three guesses thing?” he said flatly, and Neil sucked in a breath, glancing over his shoulder to where Kevin was trying– and failing– to eavesdrop casually. “Roof,” Andrew said when he realized, and Neil sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. He doubted there was anyway he was getting out of this, so instead of arguing he just followed Andrew up the stairs and out the maintenance door to the roof.

Neil knew what question was coming, so he tried to think of one that would be of equal value. His eyes wandered over Andrew as he tried to decide and eventually landed on the armbands. They’d been living together for two weeks now, and the only time Neil had seen underneath them was when they slipped down in the morning and the tops of thin, pale lines were exposed.

“Name,” Neil shook his head. 

“My turn first,” he said, and Andrew gave him a look as he sat down on the edge of the roof. He lit two cigarettes and passed one to Neil, who took it gratefully and breathed in the smell. Oddly enough, cigarette smoke smelled cleaner than the smoke that haunted Neil, and it was a welcome difference.

“Why do you have those?” Neil asked, taking a drag of the cigarette just so that it didn’t go out as he watched Andrew– who was staring back at him. He knew Andrew would know he didn’t just mean the arm bands. Sure enough Andrew sighed and rolled one of them up to show off the numerous lines. 

“Once upon a time someone did something to me that made pain very comforting,” he said, then he took a long drag off his cigarette and watched the sky line. “That was before I discovered something called self worth. It’s hysterical what years of therapy will do for you,” he thought for a moment, “Well, and not being raped every night,” he added. Neil nodded slowly, and then took a drag off of his own cigarette as Andrew finished his quickly and lit another one.

“I don’t like my actual name, it’s my fathers and I don’t want anything to do with him,” Neil started, “This is also his face, and his smile, and _him,_ ” Neil swallowed. “He wasn’t– isn’t a very good man,” Neil said, and Andrew gave him a look that made Neil let out a shaky laugh.

“Right, forgot, vague statements and all that,” Neil said with a small smirk, and Andrew frowned. 

“I said that in german,” he said, and Neil swallowed.

“Surprise?” he said in german, and Andrew glared at him. 

“Nathaniel, Nathaniel Abram Wesninksi. That’s my real name,” he said, and the words tasted like sand and blood in his mouth.

“Hm, Abram your mother's name?” Andrew remarked, and Neil furrowed his brow. “Natha _neil,_ Abram, Josten for Wesninski, you got rid of your father but not Abram,” he explained, taking another drag off his cigarette and watching Neil closely. Neil was a bit surprised, he’d expected– well, he didn’t actually know what he’d expected when he told someone for the first time since his mother died what his name used to be and who his father was.

"It's– yes, she used to call me that," he said, Andrew nodded, breathing in the last of his cigarette. 

“Mm," he hummed, then, "Well, you can’t look that much like him,” Andrew started, and Neil frowned, “Evil crime lords usually aren’t hot,” he said, before stubbing out his cigarette and leaving. Neil was frozen on the edge of the roof. He felt like he was teetering dangerously.

_What?_

Neil felt his face heating up, and he stared at the door Andrew had left through.

_What?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmmmmm oooooohhhh, shit's gettin' steamyyyy (lmao not at all) and Kevin gets tossed into the mix, what a guy I love him. rn I'm actually in New York (YAAAY!!) so my schedules way off and I have some freetime thanks to travel to write a bunch so yeeahhhh. Also, next time: Betsy makes a wild appearance, and Neil fucks up big time.


	4. Andrew Takes a Stab at Mental Health (and Neil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: non-explicit mentions of Andrew and Neil's pasts (child abuse/ dug use/ violence [and everything good in the world]) also it starts out with a therapy session and some discussion of mental health. Also there's knives and fighting and mentions of Dr*ke. If you have questions (or think I should write the therapy scene differently) mssg me (@Luci-Cunt) on tumblr and I'll be happy to chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho ho ho! She posts on schedule for the first time!!!! (lol not really it's VERY early Wednesday for me but time zones are really fun) anywayysss, here's this and again, bless all of you posting comments and leaving kudos, you're the only things warming my cold dead soul. Also if you see typos lemme know!! (((I wrote this on a train on my phone so yikes)))

“So, how have things been with your new roommate, I believe last time you described him quite eloquently as–” Bee paused to flip through her notes and then quote them, “‘an off limits freudian-slip-time-bomb’” she glanced up at him, pursing her lips in an unimpressed expression when Andrew didn’t even blink. “I was thinking perhaps we would pick up there, maybe you could explain who exactly is in danger of a freudian slip, and why that’s so dangerous,” she said, and Andrew hummed and sipped his cocoa, slightly annoyed but not surprised she caught the double meaning of his term. 

He’d meant that either Neil was going to admit something about his past– which he did– or Andrew was going to admit his attraction– which he did. 

“Mmm, or we could talk about something _not_ named Neil Josten, or mention Freud again, I’m not feeling like thinking about genitalia,” he said, and Bee sighed, but gave him a tight lipped smile. 

“Have you talked to Nicky recently?” she asked instead, because it was a safe topic and she knew by now that Andrew liked having a moment to think of his own topic to bring up. 

“He’s annoying as always, apparently him and Erik are thinking about adopting a dog. I’m pretty sure Erik wants something of the more bipedal nature but I think Nicky is probably sick of kids after putting up with Aaron and I for however long that was,” Andrew said, feigning disinterest. _Six years, three months._ That’s how long Nicky had been Andrew and Aaron’s legal guardian. Six years ago he’d fought for custody against Luther and taken the responsibility of a fucked up part-delinquent part-survivor, all misplaced anger and a drug addicted abuse victim high on Xanax and stockholm syndrome– all while he was barely older than either of them, and still working through his own shit. And, he’d managed to do a decent job. Andrew would be sick of raising kids too if that was his introduction. 

“Do you still worry that Nicky resents you?” Bee asked carefully, sipping her hot cocoa and watching Andrew intently over the tops of her glasses. She was toeing a less safe line, but today Andrew was feeling more stable than usual. He’d gotten a break in his case, and started finally unraveling the mystery of Neil Josten. Plus Aaron had brought over cupcakes that Katelyn had made. Neil and him were supposed to taste test to see which ones she should make for Dan and Matt’s wedding. Andrew had eaten them all and then told Aaron that he picked the lemon curd filled ones because he knew they were the hardest to make. Neil– being the prude that he is– stuck to eating half a carrot cake one that he’d scraped the icing off of and given Andrew to eat.

“No, I’ve decided that Nicky’s too bad of a liar to be faking it,” Andrew said, it wasn’t a lie. He wanted to say that he wouldn’t care even if Nicky was, but that would be a lie now. That realization made Andrew suddenly feel off kilter, like the ground beneath him was made of sand. He shifted in his seat– the comfortable and familiar plush couch across from Bee’s armchair– and took a gulp of his hot cocoa. 

“You just realized something,” Bee pointed out, and Andrew didn’t look at her for a second. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, sincerely. Andrew trusted that she wouldn’t press if he said no. But he also heard her voice nagging the back of his head to speak his thoughts out loud. 

“Trust is difficult,” He decided finally, after Bee had waited patiently while the clock above her desk ticked away quietly. Her office was as familiar as she was. Light blue walls covered in selves of carefully placed glass figurines. Andrew didn’t really see the point in them, you couldn’t even tell what they were unless you looked directly at them from above, but he’d still gotten Bee one every holiday since they’d started the therapy sessions when a desperate Nicky signed both him and Aaron up during their junior year. Her desk was somehow cluttered and neat at the same time, that described Bee pretty well actually– unorganized organization. 

She also had a small picture of Andrew up on her wall, the one he’d been forced to take for graduation in highschool. He hadn’t actually sent her one, but Nicky had ordered a bunch of extras and sent them out to his friends and one specially to Bee. She’d asked before putting it up, which was the only reason Andrew had let her. It also helped that there were a couple other photos of other clients on the wall as well, including a photo of Renee beaming into the camera with her arm around Bee at her own graduation. 

“Trust? Or realizing you trust people?” Bee prodded, and Andrew tried not to scowl at her. 

“Both,” he admitted after a couple minutes. Her face hardened the way it always did when she wanted Andrew to actually listen, and she set her mug of cocoa on the coffee table and sat forward a little, before making eye contact again. Andrew remained leaning back with one arm thrown over the back of the couch and the other holding his half empty cocoa mug. 

“Andrew, you’ve lead a life that required a lack of trust for survival, your mind evolved to help you get through a challenging time. But now, you’re moving past it, you have an apartment with a new roommate, your brother has a girlfriend, Nicky is married, everyone you love is safe and so are you. It’s scary to realize the coping mechanisms you’ve depended on your whole life aren’t necessary anymore, but it is a good thing, it means you’ve made progress, and that you’re healing successfully.” Andrew sighed. 

“Hmm, that’s all fine and well until someone comes along and proves us both wrong– then I’ll be holding the bag with my new healed hands,” he said bitterly, and Bee nodded, leaning back in her seat and picking her mug back up to take a thoughtful sip. 

“If you aren’t ready to let go yet, then don’t. Healing won’t come if you force it, but just make sure you don’t sink completely back into old habits. Then you may start trying to find ways to prove yourself right, and that could be dangerous.” she warned calmly. Andrew watched her face for a hint of the passive aggressiveness he knew he wouldn’t find. Then he glanced up at the clock. They had a little less than a half hour left.

“What’s your favorite kind of cake?” he asked, and she brightened and shot into this week's kind. It was something of a code between them, a way for Andrew to tell her he was done talking without just shutting down. This way she would prattle on for the rest of their time and Andrew could interject when he wanted– which was usually rarely. Today it was only to scoff at her choice of green frosting on a blueberry-lemon cake.  
****

Someone was punishing Andrew for something. 

At least, that’s what he mused when he unlocked the door to the apartment to find Neil passed out on the couch, surrounded by case files and information on the mystery Andrew was almost completely sure Neil was at the center of. The curtains were open, which meant someone had probably been over in the time Andrew had been gone, which let light stream through the apartment and made Neil look like he was glowing from where he was sprawled out on the couch. 

And his shirt had ridden up, which was completely unfair. Especially with the way the sun just made him _look._

Andrew sucked in a long breath, swallowed carefully, and pointedly avoided looking at Neil and focused on listing off medieval torture methods. He slammed the freezer shut as he realized they were out of ice cream, that earned him a gasp from the living room and a thump like the idiot had fallen off the couch. Andrew _hated_ him. 

“Andrew?” Neil called with trepidation, still behind the couch, and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“No, it’s 80 year old Joe from down the hall, I left my dentures in your sink,” he snapped dryly. Turning so he could lean his back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Fuck you,” Neil said, poking his head back up over the couch to glare. Andrew glared back, Neil broke the staring contest when he yawned and stretched out. Relaxing a surprising amount as he rested against the back of the couch so he could see into the kitchen. He let one arm prop up his head lazily. “Kevin came over, there was another body,” he said and Andrew raised a brow. 

“Fun, who?” Andrew asked flatly, and he watched as Neil wiped a smile off his own face, trying– and failing– to disguise it as a yawn. 

“Uhh, some guy– DeWall…?” he said, before pushing off the back of the couch and looking around at the files surrounding him. He picked one up and flipped it open. “Lucas, Lucas DeWall.” he said, reading over the information as Andrew stalked forward and grabbed the folder out of his hands. Neil rolled his eyes and then fell backwards so he was laying on his back on the couch. He stretched out again and Andrew flexed his _fucking fantastic_ willpower by not looking at him and instead focusing on the file. 

King started meowing at him when he didn’t notice her and he scowled as he scratched her head and continued reading the file. She batted at his hand needily when he apparently didn’t pay enough attention and Neil laughed and scooped her up. Andrew raised a brow. 

“So much for throwing _it_ down the stairs,” he remarked, and Neil shot him a glare while King curled up on his chest and purred. Needless to say it was a pretty ineffective glare. 

It had been Bee’s idea to get the cat, something about him needed an outlet for his protective nature. It had also been her subtly stating that the way he interacted with humans was very not healthy. He’d gotten the stupid cat to prove her wrong, but after a week of hoping it would magically turn into a rug he’d tossed all pretense of hatred out the window. He didn’t like King, she didn’t really like him either– but he fed her every morning and every night, and she’d stopped throwing up mice in front of his bedroom door. So they tolerated each other. 

He just wished Nicky would stop sending him photoshopped Brooklyn-99 memes. Nicky had even wanted to name the stupid thing ‘Arlo’ and Andrew had accepted the very next name mostly out of desperation– even though he’d never admit it. 

“You killed him, didn't you?” Andrew said bluntly, and Neil’s hand froze where it was stroking King. She patted his hand insistently and Neil started petting her again, looking only at his hand and not at Andrew. 

“Why would I do that?” he asked unconvincingly, and Andrew narrowed his eyes. 

“Not an answer.” Neil shrugged, still watching King. “Not really a question either,” he said, a small smirk starting and Andrew glared. 

“Did you kill Lucas DeWall?” he asked more specifically, and Neil shrugged. 

“Is it really a good idea to confront a suspected murderer while alone with said suspected murderer?” he countered, finally lifting his eyes to Andrews, his lips pulled in a menacing smile. Andrew’s expression stayed flat and bored. 

“Are you going to answer me or threaten me.” he deadpanned, and Neil scowled at him. 

“Hypothetically, if someone were to have killed DeWall, he wouldn’t fucking admit to it,” Neil spat which made King hiss at him mockingly. Andrew smirked. 

“I’m not willing to play games, did you kill him, yes or no?” Andrew asked, and Neil stayed still for a long pause before lunging over the couch at Andrew– or to the door behind Andrew, it was hard to tell. 

Either way Andrew grabbed him and yanked him back. Neil scowled and twisted Andrew’s arm right before it snapped, but Andrew had his knives palmed and against Neil’s throat before he would follow through. 

“Try me,” Andrew dared, and Neil had the audacity to smile.

“Was not expecting that,” he admitted, dropping Andrew’s arm and holding up his hands in surrender. Andrew didn’t drop the knife. 

“Are you going to come clean?” Andrew asked, not even bothering to add the very clear threat that was tied to the end of the question. Neil sneered at him. 

“Do you honestly think that the killer’s gotten by this well by admitting shit to psychos who threaten him with knives? You aren’t even the first person to threaten me or even try to kill me!” Neil spat, then he blinked. Andrew grinned as Neil realized his mistake. “Shit,” he cursed, leveling a glare at Andrew that probably would have killed him if looks could.

Suddenly Neil’s leg shot out and swiped Andrew’s legs from under him. He went down hard, and Neil twisted the knife out of his hands and held it against his neck– right where he’d done the same for every other of the 23 victims he’d killed–. On instinct Andrew drew another knife and slashed out, managing to cut Neil’s shoulder. He yelped, but to his credit didn’t budge and kept the knife pressed against Andrew’s neck as Andrew did the same. 

Neil was bleeding, it was soaking into his shirt sleeve and his jaw was clenched like he was trying to ignore the pain. They glared at each other for a minute, both still an inch away from death.

“I killed Tilda Minyard, and Aaron killed Drake Spear, both were made to look like accidents, the police didn’t catch either of us,” Andrew said, and Neil’s brow furrowed. 

“Are you _brag–?_ ” he started to ask incredulously, and Andrew scowled. 

“It’s collateral damage you idiot,” he snapped, and Neil’s mouth turned into an ‘o’ as he figured it out. 

“How do I know you actually killed them?” 

“I’ll tell you why we killed them if you tell me why you’re killing your fathers men,” Andrew countered, and Neil narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you sure you’re in a negotiating position, you know, with a hypothetical serial killer holding a knife to your carotid?” Andrew pressed his own knife into Neil’s neck instead of answering, and Neil backed off. “Touché,” he admitted, and then Andrew put his hands up and dropped his knife. Neil watched him suspiciously before doing the same, and Andrew sat up. His back was probably going to bruise tomorrow, which would suck for at Pallas, but it also looked like Neil was going to need stitches for his cut so he felt like they were even. He stood up, which made Neil jump up and so Andrew shoved him backwards over the couch. 

“Sit down before you pass out,” he hissed, grabbing the first aid kit from over the kitchen sink and coming back over to the couch where Neil was glaring at him and holding his cut arm. Andrew gestured for Neil to move closer, and when Neil did Andrew hovered his hands over his arm with a cotton ball dipped in rubbing alcohol. He glanced to Neil. “Yes or no,” he asked, and Neil narrowed his eyes again but nodded. 

“Yes,” he said, and Andrew grabbed his arm to better clean the cut. 

“When I was born mommy dearest couldn’t handle two kids, she couldn’t even handle one but she kept Aaron and sent me off to years in the foster system.” Andrew started to explain flatly as he cleaned Neils wound expressionlessly. Now that he was actually looking at it he realized it probably didn’t need stitches, so instead he pulled out the antiseptic gel. “That’s where I met some really stand up older men, really into the whole _hands-on_ approach to child rearing, and one of them was named Drake Spear,” he smeared the gel on Neil’s arm. 

“Then this cop I knew found Aaron, thought he was me, hijinks ensued, and I got a note from my birth mother saying she wanted nothing to do with me. Then, I got another note from my long lost twin brother saying the opposite– that’s the one Drake found,” Andrew peeled the wrapper off a bandaid as he talked, “He was very excited to have the _‘matching set.’_ So I wrote a note to Aaron, telling him to fuck off, and then I set a police cruiser on fire and got locked up. By the time I got out, Tilda–” actually more Luther through Tilda but Andrew wasn’t feeling like explaining anymore than he already was. He wasn’t even sure why he was explaining this much. Maybe it was for Bee. _Look Bee, I’m opening up, you should be happy, even if it is to my serial killer roommate._ “–Had gotten custody of me, and I got to be reunited with my long lost family. I found out Tilda was hooked on drugs, and that she’d gotten Aaron hooked too in order to manage him. It was killing them both, so I made a deal with Aaron, warned Tilda, and when she didn’t listen; planned out a scene, got in the car with her, and yanked the wheel into a semi.” 

“And Drake?” Neil asked quietly as Andrew pressed the bandage over Neil’s arm. His grip tightened for a second, before he forced it to loosen and looked Neil in the eyes.

“Drake wanted to meet Aaron, wanted to ‘check up’ on me, and when he showed up Tilda was too high to do anything and he knocked me out. By the time I came back to Aaron was standing over Drake with a broken lamp in his hand.”

“But that’s self defense, he attacked you, that doesn’t–”

“Drake was an _upstanding_ citizen, a _volunteer_ , a _pillar_ of the community, and in the military,” Andrew quoted sardonically, “None of the cops believed me the first times I told them, you think they would have believed me that time? So instead Aaron and I dragged him into his car, drove him out to the road he’d driven in on, and made it look like someone had killed him when he stopped for a flat tire.” Andrew finished, standing up to pick his knives back up off the floor and tuck them back into his arm bands. Neil was quiet for a long moment.

“Mom and I were on the run from my father– you weren’t wrong about him not being a gentle soul.” Neil paused like he was trying to decide something. Probably whether or not to lie. Andrew waited expressionlessly, “He caught up with us, killed her, and I managed to get away,” Neil stopped again to take a breath. King hopped back up into his lap– evidently satisfied that Andrew and Neil weren’t going to burst out into knife combat again– and Neil petted her gently. 

“That’s pretty unremarkable as far as serial killer origin stories go,” Andrew remarked, and Neil glared at him. 

“Well it’s all you’re getting,” _I’ve already shared too much._ He added silently, Andrew could see it in the way he was tensed up and looked ready to run. 

“If you’re going to run you have to take my cat,” he said, standing up and tossing the garbage from cleaning Neil’s cut at him– he got another glare. “You deal with this, I need ice cream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmhmmm mmm, I love Bee so much, she's such an icon. Dr*ke can die in a hole fuck him. Also!! Next time: R*ko, Neil fucks up AGAIN, and Andrew asks Neil to stay.


	5. Neil Doesn't Like Fro-Yo or Cops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of murder/ death (talking about Neil's victims)/ police mentions/ unholy amounts of sugar and bad driving (please make Andrew stop) if I forgot anything please let me know!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorrryyy I lieeddd, this chapter is basically nothing like the teaser said cause I decided to move things back a bit (and I just wanted an excuse to write more of the foxes interacting), so sooooon sooooon (lol probably by tomorrow, I've got a shit ton more traveling to do and LOTS of time to write). But this one's already 4k words and I had to stop. This chapter is looonnngg and I'm sorry but I got caught up in the Fro-yo cause I love fro-yo and i'm projecting. But! in this chapter: Allison/ Seth/ Wymack all appear!!

_Fro-Yo In Every Flavor! Try them all!_

That was the overly peppy slogan written on the wall above Andrew in pink, script lettering with a cartoon looking fro-yo cup. Neil was trying not to scowl at it as Andrew took the slogan a little too seriously. 

It had been a day since Neil had confessed, since he’d spilled his biggest, most incriminating secret, and Andrew had said two words to him in total since. 

_Money?_

_I have money, why?_

_Fro-yo._

Which apparently meant Neil was buying Andrew fro-yo. He didn’t actually figure that out until he was sitting across from Andrew in a Fro-yo shop a few blocks from their apartment. He tried not to gag at the monstrosity of toppings and four different flavors of frozen yogurt Andrew had managed to stuff into the cup. And also tried not to be pissed that Andrew hadn’t said a word since leaving the apartment.

“So, you kill people, you’ve got a mob boss for a dad, and you had a crazy mother,” Andrew summed up, finally breaking the annoying silence, and Neil glared at him. A whole day of mulling that over and _that_ was his conclusion.

“Why don’t you tell the whole shop? I don’t think the guy in the back quite heard you,” He hissed and Andrew gave him an unimpressed look. He leaned back in his chair to the table behind him— earning odd looks from the couple sitting there. They both looked oddly familiar, but Neil couldn’t quite place why.

“My friend here has killed 20 people,” he deadpanned, then cocked his head, “No wait, it’s 21 now isn’t it?” Neil groaned and let his face fall into his hands. The woman sitting there looked Neil over once and scoffed.

“Yeah, ok, and I’m straight,” she said, the guy she was with squawked.

“You’re not—?” The girl glared.

“Seth this is Fro-yo– from under your apartment, even if it was a date it would be a shitty one,” she said flatly. Seth growled and then gestured back to where Andrew had turned in his seat to watch them and Neil was still hiding his face. 

“They’re here!” He tried, and Andrew and Neil lifted their heads at the same time.

“Not a date,” they said in sync, and the girl laughed. 

“I’m Allison,” she said with a wide smile, offering her hand. When neither Neil or Andrew took it she shrugged. 

“Neil,” Neil introduced, and when Andrew didn’t say anything he added, “this is Andrew,” and she raised a brow. 

“Minyard?” she asked, and Andrew took a bite of caramel praline fro-yo with chocolate shaped like fish and rainbow sprinkles. 

“Depends on who’s asking,” he said and Allison laughed again. 

“Renee’s mentioned you, and we had psych together– last year I think. You said like two words and they were both to make fun of the teacher,” she said, Andrew nodded and didn’t add anything. Neil picked at his own cup of fro-yo. He’d already eaten all the fruit off the top so all that was left was the actual frozen yogurt, which he didn’t really like. 

“Shit, you and Renee are fucking aren’t you?” Seth made a face and Allison rolled her eyes. 

“Constantly–” she answered dismissively, “–she actually wanted me to tell you to answer your phone once in while,” she added, and Andrew raised a brow. “Ok _I_ want that, Wymack keeps calling her trying to get to you, but you aren’t picking up, it’s getting annoying. Middle aged cops ruin the mood better than death,” she said and Andrew frowned– in agreement and mild confusion. 

“Johnny law after you?” Neil asked with a smirk, and Andrew shot him a look. It died somewhere between a glare and mocking scowl. 

“Hmm, sounds good, tell Renee to tell him to eat shit,” he said, then paused– “and film that interaction for me,” he added, finishing his fro-yo and stealing Neil’s cup as he stood up. “Come on Neil we have to go support our local law enforcers,” he said, taking a bite of the fro-yo and then scowling. Neil stood up quickly and waved a small goodbye to Allison who just rolled her eyes. “Heathen, you didn’t even get fudge sauce,” he muttered, finishing the fro-yo and dumping the cup in the trash before climbing into his car. Neil rolled his own eyes and then got in after him in the passenger's seat. 

He stared out the front window and wondered if he was being stupid.

No, didn’t wonder, _knew._ This was a huge mistake. Everything about this was wrong and going to end horribly. He hadn’t changed his name in three years, hadn’t moved in two, had a roommate, worked at a place where people knew him– could _recognize_ him– and he’d just spilled his biggest secret to someone who was virtually a stranger and also would be very difficult to kill. 

But no matter how much this realization made his air cut off and made him choke on smoke and itch phantom sand from his arms– he couldn’t get himself to regret it. 

Andrew probably would have figured it out anyways, and there was something indescribably freeing about not having to worry about whether his lie was solid or not all the time. Plus, Kevin had told him that the way that Andrew got all of his information was thanks to police connections. It wouldn’t be a horrible thing to use that to Neil’s advantage.

Suddenly Neil was reminded of that other name Andrew had brought up when listing off possible victims. 

“Who are the Moriyama’s?” he asked, feigning a casual tone as he tried to drown out the voice hissing in his ear that he wasn’t safe. He dragged a hand through his hair in an effort to wipe away the long dead fingers pulling at his scalp.

“Hmm, no.” Andrew said, turning a corner sharply, someone honked and Neil gripped the car door while shooting Andrew a dark look. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, Andrew blew past a red light– there was more honking. He hadn’t been driving like this on the way to the Fro-yo place. “ _Christ,_ can you _drive_ –??” he didn’t manage to finish his sentence as Andrew breezed past a 25 miles per hour speed limit– going 65– but that worked anyways. And besides, Andrew just ignored him as he screeched to a stop, barely missing the parking barrier in front of the police station. Neil’s breath froze in his throat as Andrew pulled the keys out of the car. 

“Kevin was following us,” he said, then frowned at Neil’s panic, he rolled his eyes. “If I was going to turn you in I wouldn’t be here with you,” he deadpanned “It could be part of a set up,” Neil countered, and Andrew shrugged. “Could be, but it isn’t. Wait in the car if you want, it’ll be a while though,” he said. Neil watched him for a moment. Waiting for his unemotional expression to falter in some kind of tell. When it didn’t, he still wasn’t fully soothed. He suddenly felt like there were eyes on him, his skin started to crawl and he held his breath so that no one could hear how ragged it was starting to get. Someone was saying something but Neil felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton and wax as his fingers started going numb. 

Suddenly there was a sharp pain in his forehead and he gasped and jerked back, seeing Andrew scowling at him, hand still held up, Neil glared back.

“Welcome back Ariel, remember you don’t have gills anymore? Use your lungs dipshit,” he said flatly and Neil opened his mouth to snap back and then shut it, confused by the reference. “No, that’s flounder,” Andrew said, looking bored and monotone. 

“Did you just _flick_ me?” Neil finally managed, his nerves were still buzzing but his hearing was starting to clear up again. Andrew shrugged. 

“You’re breathing again aren’t you? I thought you didn’t like bringing attention to yourself,” as much as it frustrated Neil he had a point. Passing out in the parking lot of a police station was a very bad idea. He didn’t have time to think up a proper retort however, because suddenly there was a knock on Andrew’s window. Neil looked up to see the pinched and unhappy face of Kevin Day scowling in at both of them. Andrew’s lips turned up slightly upward since Kevin had to squint to see either of them through the tinted glass. 

“Are you trying to get arrested?” he sneered through the window, and Andrew put a hand up to his ear and shook his head even though he could hear Kevin perfectly fine. Neil smiled despite himself when Kevin tried repeating himself louder. 

It took three tries for him to realize Andrew was fucking with him.

“God _damn– fuck_ you, you know that? You’re such a dick,” he growled as Andrew smirked at him and finally got out of the car.

“What’re you going to do about it golden boy? Slash my tires? Do it, join the dark side,” Neil rolled his eyes but felt the corners of his own lips turning up.

“I give up, go fuck yourselves, both of you!” he hissed, storming off into the station. Andrew held back for a moment as Neil walked around the car. 

“Wind him up and watch him go,” he said, which made Neil crack a smile as they started through the door. 

It was bustling with cops. Neil felt like he’d stepped into the middle of a hornets nest. It wasn’t necessarily the cops he was worried about, but if they caught him he’d have a hell of a time keeping his identity secret and if it leaked out to the public… Well, he wouldn’t have to worry about a jury judging his case.

Andrew flicked his forehead again and Neil glared at him but he was already making his way to the back of the station. He and Neil had gotten about halfway to the back when a large, intense looking man stepped out of the office and folded his arms over his chest to level his own glare at Andrew. 

“Minyard,” he said, voice slightly gravely and just as gruff as he looked. He wasn’t actually that much taller than Neil, a little shorter than Kevin with darkish skin and tribal tattoos on his forearms. Him and Kevin actually looked a lot alike, sharing the same intense presence and dark complexions. Neil realized this must be David Wymack, chief of police– or captain– or some other title that Neil couldn’t remember. He hadn’t really put much effort into remember the ranks of officers, just into knowing how to avoid _all_ of them. 

He only even knew who Wymack was because of an article on Kevin he’d read when he came out saying that Wymack was his father and he was going to be staying with him while he recuperated from his injury. Neil had done some research on him, he seemed to be a decent guy. 

He used to coach the Palmetto State’s exy team until he was fired for saying _“aggressive and graphic comments”_ when Palmetto didn’t let him hire female players. Actually now that he thought about it, Dan also brought him up a lot, he was something like a hero of hers. He got her the coaching jobs she was working after she wasn’t accepted into the exy team. 

The job switch had been a little odd, from college exy coach to high ranking officer, but Neil had found out he’d actually been a cop before coaching. 

“Who’s the newbie Minyard? Find another freak to add to your collection?” sneered a voice from the desk in front of Wymack’s office. Neil turned to see a tall man leaning against the desk, he was scanning Neil and then blinked as they both recognized each other. 

“Mmm Seth, you really do know how to kill brain cells– do you even try at this point or is it just second nature?” Andrew said, and Seth scowled at him.

“Weren’t you just at Fro-yo?” Neil asked, and Seth’s eyes darted to the now empty doorway of Wymacks office. 

“No,” he said too quickly and Andrew laughed humorlessly. 

“Oh dear Seth, if we were speeding and you still managed to get here before us… well I wonder what that means for you?” he said, and Seth paled. 

“Fuck you,” he said, before beelining away from them both. Now Neil realized why he’d recognized him. Seth was one of the players that had been on Wymack’s exy team– and the only one to try and fight to get him back– there had been a story about him following Wymack and was working as a beat cop. And Allison was on the exy team, she was the one who’d publicised the whole thing. There’d been a huge scandal when she spilled the reason Wymack got fired to the media, and the college had scrambled to rehire Wymack and allow female players, but Wymack only came back as a part time assistant coach. 

“Mmm, scandalous,” Andrew remarked as they walked into Wymack’s office. 

“Minyard, so glad you could finally grace us with your presence, who’s the friend?” Wymack said as soon as they entered. He was sitting behind his desk, which helped relax Neil a little, but the idea of being this close to a man his fathers age was making him nauseous, he carefully stuck to the back of the office. 

“I know, I’m a blessing,” Andrew said, plopping down in one of the chairs and throwing his legs up over the arm of the chair. “This is Nunya,” Andrew said, which earned him a glare from both Wymack and Neil. Wymack turned his eyes to Neil though, and looked him over. Neil tensed and tried not to flinch when he grunted disapprovingly. Wymack seemed to notice, and his eyes softened for a moment before he turned back to Andrew with his glare at full strength. 

“I’m not going to share classified information with a stranger Andrew,” Wymack said, Andrew hummed for a moment and then patted the seat next to him. 

“Neil, have a seat, this dog’s all bark and no bite, promise,” he said, Neil’s gut lurched but he went over and sat down, careful to focus only on the collar of Wymack’s shirt. He was dressed in a suit but he’d ditched the jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of the dress shirt. Making him look terribly unprofessional, which also helped. Nathan had always thought dressing appropriately was an integral part of life, he would have rather died than someone see him like that. 

The vain bastard. 

“He’s with me Wymack, that’s all you need to know,” Andrew added when Wymack still didn’t look convinced. “He brings a certain… _set of eyes_ to the case that could be beneficial,” he picked his words carefully and Neil scowled at the smug look on Andrew’s face when he turned to Neil. Wymack let out an exasperated sigh and dragged a hand down his face. 

“Fine, whatever, who gives a shit about the rules anyways.” he muttered more to himself than anything. “Kevin’s getting coffees and then we can start,” he added as he stood up. Neil gripped the arm of the chair to keep from flinching, but all he did was pull a rolling cork board out of the corner of the room. It was covered in casefiles and ideas and leads about Neil’s murders, and it made Neil’s blood chill. It was also a lot more organized than the one Andrew had set up all over their apartment. Somehow that made it seem all the more threatening– and he didn’t have collateral damage for Wymack.

“Aww, did you put that together just for me?” Andrew drawled, and Wymack ignored him as Kevin returned carrying a tray with four coffees on it, he closed the door behind him and Neil tensed even more at the idea of being trapped in the room with an older man, suddenly Andrew flicked his forehead and Neil rubbed the spot and glared at him.

“I don’t appreciate older men either,” he whispered, Neil took in the genuine casualness in Andrew’s posture and realized what he was saying. Neil took a breath and tried to relax as Kevin passed out the coffees and then settled on the corner of Wymack’s desk to look at the board. 

“Ok, so thanks to Andrew we now know that there is a case, and that we’re dealing with one of the most effective serial killers I’ve come across,” Wymack started, and Andrew smirked. 

“That’s seems like a lot of credit to give one guy,” he said, and Neil glared at him.

“Well he’s killed twenty-four people– that we know of– and we only just now caught on,” Wymack said, scanning the board and taking a sip of his coffee. Kevin offered Neil sugar packets, and Neil took them only to hand them over to Andrew– who’d already dumped four in his coffee. “That seems pretty dangerous to me.”

“He is only killing bad people, maybe he considers himself a vigilante?” Kevin said, furrowing his brow slightly. He and Wymack were rubbing their chins in the same thoughtful way as they looked over the board. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous to assume the killer’s a man?” Neil asked, and Wymack and Kevin both jumped slightly, like they’d forgotten anyone else was in the room. Andrew laughed. Neil had only half brought it up to draw the spot light farther from him– he also meant it. Lola for example was just as effective and if not more than as terrifying as Nathan. 

“Well we are considering Mary Wesninski as a suspect–” Kevin started, then cut himself off, “–or at least, we _were,_ ” he said, glaring at Andrew pointedly. Neil let out a relieved breath, it didn’t seem like Kevin had caught on to his horribly obvious breakdown from before.

“Mary Wesninski is dead, I already told you that,” Neil snapped, he’d already said it, and as easy as it would be to pin the crimes on his mother and send them on a wild goose chase, it could also backfire and lead them straight to him. Kevin and Wymack gave him odd looks, Andrew yawned. 

“What’s your source?” Wymack asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

“No one you would know,” he said, Wymack sighed and dragged a hand down his face exasperatedly. 

“Great, another smart ass,” he muttered under his breath, and Andrew smirked. 

“As frustrating as he is, he’s credible, if he says the lady’s dead, she’s dead,” Andrew said. 

“They did go missing at least a decade ago, and haven’t been heard from since… it’s probably more likely that they were killed than managed to stay under the radar for so long,” Kevin mused, and Neil wiped the pleased smile off his face. Andrew shot him a glare he pretended not to see. 

He’d been the one to survive that decade of hell and constant fear, he deserved to be proud of the success. 

“Anyways, Neil’s right, we’re removing an entire suspects list,” Wymack said, and Kevin jumped to agree, which had Andrew rolling his eyes. “So, what we know about Nathan Wesninski, also known as the Butcher of Baltimore–” Wymack flipped the corkboard over to reveal an entirely new side covered in information on Nathan Wesninski, and at the center, a picture of the infamous Butcher himself. 

Neil froze, the unexpectedness of the situation sending him into shock. Neil hadn’t seen his fathers face in three years since he watched him slam a lead pipe into his mothers stomach– destroying her and causing her to bleed out as she drove them away. 

The picture Wymack was using was from one of Nathan’s “charity” banquets, Neil realized with a start. This particular picture was from years ago, but the picture was thankfully cropped to hide Nathanial’s tiny face, shoulder gripped too tightly in his father’s hand as a threat and a reminder to stop squirming and smile for the press cameras. To pretend to be a happy, perfect family. Neil’s fingers went to the iron burn on his shoulder without him realizing it. He couldn’t feel it beneath his sweater, but the skin was itching. 

Andrew flicked his forehead again, and Neil glared, but Andrew wasn’t looking at him. He’d sat up in the chair, and he reached out to drop a heavy hand on the back of Neil’s neck while still looking at the board. Surprisingly it helped a lot to ground Neil, who suddenly realized that Wymack had been talking the whole time and luckily hadn’t noticed Neil’s shock. 

“...known ties to the Moriyamas, but he mostly works his own shit in Baltimore– hence the name. From our sources it seems he’s basically just a mercenary. You fuck with the Moriyamas and the Butcher gets sicced on you,” Wymack was saying, and Neil furrowed his brow. It seemed impossible that his father could be taking orders from anyone, but Neil also knew that Nathan was a slimy bastard who would do anything to save his own skin and have an extra layer of protection to keep killing people as he pleased.

“–he also has at least three main associates from what I can gather, Patrick Dimaccio, and Romero and Lola Malcolm,” Wymack continued, pointing to three pictures of them at the same banquet. Lola’s smile was a chilling thing, even from a photograph and Neil tried not to flinch at it. Andrew’s hand squeezed the back of his neck and shot him back into the present before he could get too caught up in poisonous smiles stretched across blood red lips and Lola’s taunts and _Junior._ Kevin, meanwhile, frowned. 

“Wasn’t Romero Malcolm one of the victims?” he asked, and Wymack nodded and flipped over the board, pointing to the picture of dead Romero, there were some sticky notes tacked around him with information, but Neil couldn’t read them– instead focusing on stifling the small smile trying to spread across his face at the reminder that he’d killed one of Nathan’s inner circle– and still hadn’t gotten caught. 

“Number 18 as far as I can tell,” Wymack said. “This kill was also one of the more violent ones, and now with the information that not only is this gu– _person,_ killing only the Butcher’s people, the kill of Romero being more violent, and the fact that he’s Nathan’s inner circle leads me to believe that the killer must be somehow personally connected to this.” Neil was a little shocked that Wymack had been able to put all of that together– well, more Andrew but, still, _someone_ had been able to get all that information from kills that Neil had thought had been completely untraceable. 

He made a mental note to put a collar on his pride and keep the other kills completely professional– no more outbursts like with Romero. He had to be more careful. 

“So what? This person’s got some kind of vendetta?” Andrew asked, keeping his face impressively blank. Wymack nodded solemnly and examined the board again. 

“As much as it pains me to say it, I think we should warn these people,” he murmured, and Kevin made a face. 

“They’re _murderers,_ ” he said and Andrew laughed. 

“Oh Kevin, when did you become so heartless?” Kevin shot him a glare, but then shrunk back sheepishly. 

“I don’t like it either, in my opinion, whoever’s doing this is doing us a favor– but if the media finds out we were sitting on this information and didn’t warn possible victims…” he said, and Kevin nodded his reluctant agreement. 

“It’ll be a bloodbath,” he finished. They both shared an intense look. 

“I can either get cops to go door to door, or we could make a public statement,” Wymack said, and Neil’s chest lurched. Andrew squeezed his neck a little more insistently and spoke up before Neil could.

“Public statements would get tricky, we don’t want the general public boiled into a panic over the next big serial killer,” he said calmly, which Neil was glad for. 

“True, but it would be a pain to try and warn everyone individually… we could go directly to the source,” Wymack thought aloud, that idea made Neil squirm and Andrew removed his hand to flick Neil’s forehead. 

“Neil and I will go to Riko– we can find out whoever’s in charge through him, and you guys get to meet the Butcher,” then he glared when Wymack opened his mouth to argue, “it’s not official police business, we won’t be there for anything other than our own morbid curiosity over the leader of the Yakuza,” Andrew said feigning ignorance. Wymack gave another exasperated sigh but he nodded reluctantly. Then he pointed at them both. 

“I didn’t tell you to do this,” he growled, and Andrew smiled. 

“I don’t even know who you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, good on y'all for actually making it through all that, next chapter: Rick-hoe is a bitch and that's all I know for sure right now lol. Thank you all so much for the kudos and comment!! Every one makes me freaking squeal you're all so nice and I can't believe people are actually reading this XD


	6. Andrew Says Don't Piss Off Polyphemus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick-Hoe arrives and is a bitch. Neil mouths off and Andrew is gay and flexes his massive literature intellect. Very brief mentions of alcohol abuse and depression (Kevin) but it's really only alluded to

“If you kill him while I’m there I will kill you,” Andrew said, not bothering to glance over to where Neil was sitting in the passenger's seat of his car.

“What? Too squeamish?” Neil teased, with a smirk that made Andrew want to smack it off. Or just grab him and–

 _Ah ah ah, we’ve discussed this._ He chided himself, tightening his grip on the wheel. Usually he wouldn’t bother resisting this much, to Andrew, attraction was a fact. When he was attracted to someone he acted on it, usually by just stating it– it had worked out for him so far– and then moving on. 

A barista with a quick smile caught his eye? Andrew found out what time he had a break, and acted, and then left. A bartender with smart remarks kept his attention? Andrew bluntly stated his attraction, they found a back room, and then Andrew left. Nicky had told him he was becoming a heartbreaker, but Andrew couldn’t find the energy to care. It wasn’t like any of them had interested him enough to deal with more than for a quick release. 

That was the problem here. Neil was hot, he had a smart mouth, and he was interesting. Interesting enough for Andrew to decide– no _want,_ (look Bee I’m healing)– to do very not church appropriate things to him, but, that one time release wasn’t worth having to deal with Neil after the fact. One night stands are one night stands because you don’t have to argue with what kind of coffee said one night stand buys to replenish the stock in your apartment. Or watch feed your cat tuna, or have to deal with when they come storming out pissed that you used the last of the shampoo. Clothes sticking to wet skin and hair damp and–

Fuck.

The point was, Neil was off limits. Andrew was good at limits– Bee said he was obsessive with limits but Andrew didn’t really see the difference.

“No, I would just enjoy exercising plausible deniability,” Andrew remarked, which made Neil snort. 

“I’m not going to kill him,” _yet._ Andrew swore he could hear him add silently. “Anything I should know about this guy before we meet him?” he said, and Andrew tilted his head like he was thinking. 

“Hmm, yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Ok, like what?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Andrew hummed again and Neil gave him a flat look. 

“Are you going to elaborate?”

“Nope,” Andrew said, popping the ‘p.’ Andrew didn’t have the energy to explain Riko. He was a narcissistic, arrogant, sadist who got off on other people's pain– especially if he caused it. 

Huh, that actually wasn’t too long winded.

“He broke Kevin’s hand when Kevin got better than him at exy,” he said after a moment, that didn’t really give Neil the full extent of Riko’s bitchiness but it would do. Neil furrowed his brow. 

“But the media said that was a skiing accident,” Neil said.

“Yep,” Andrew said, popping the ‘p’ again. 

“Why didn’t Kevin do anything? He ruined his entire career and now Kevin’s permanently handicapped,” he said, actually sounding kind of heated about it, and Andrew raised a brow. 

“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie too,” he said, and Neil scowled at him, but suddenly couldn't look him in the eyes. _Hmmm, touchy subject._ “Do you remember _why_ we’re paying Riko a visit today?” he drawled, and Neil’s face fell with realization. 

“Oh,” he said, and Andrew nodded. Yeah _‘oh.’_ Even if Kevin wasn’t too much of a coward to go after him, Riko still had the power of one of the most dangerous criminal organizations in the world. Well– not totally, from what Andrew could gather, Riko was actually just a glorified reject of the family. Still though, it wasn’t worth it to risk the wrath of the Yakuza. 

“Which is also why you probably shouldn’t kill him,” Andrew added, changing the subject. He wasn’t particularly feeling like talking about Kevin currently– even if he was much better thanks to intensive therapy than he’d been when Andrew had first met him. Drunk off his ass, cradling his hand like it was a dead child, and barely able to stand straight. Wymack had called Andrew to come babysit the wreck while him and Abby scrambled to figure out how to deal with Kevin. At the time, Wymack had just been an acquaintance, an easy cheat on one of his class papers. He’d tried to recruit Andrew to his exy team, and then gotten himself fired before Andrew had moved in. Andrew hadn’t wanted to deal with the new coach so he hadn’t. Instead blowing the rest of his inheritance from Tilda to get into college.

“Probably,” Neil agreed, staring out the front window. He started chewing on his lower lip. 

“You also realize that this whole revenge plot doesn’t really have an ending right?” Andrew said, then bit back a sighed. He sounded like Bee. _You’ll just keep finding more and more people to blame, revenge is a slippery slope that only ends with you feeling unsatisfied and searching for answers you’re supposed to find in yourself._

“Mmmhmm,” Neil hummed instead of answering, “But it’s something to do,” he added after a moment and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Besides what? Landscaping?”

“Running.” Neil corrected him, and Andrew actually did sigh at that. 

“You’re a tragedy,” _a pipedream._

“Takes one to know one,” Neil said, and Andrew ignored him, instead turning to pull into the Edgar Allen campus. It was just as annoyingly over the top as Kevin had described. The actual college was a little farther back, with the gym and athlete’s dorms (the _nest_ ) set front and center, designed to look gothic and intimidating. To Andrew it just looked like overcompensation. He wondered what that said about the college as he parked the car. 

“Well that’s a little dramatic,” Neil remarked, leaning forward to see the whole building through the window. Andrew opened his door. 

“Wait till you meet the actual Ravens,” he said, climbing out of the car. He didn’t wait for Neil to catch up and made his way into the main office. As soon as they entered the building Andrew rolled his eyes. Everything was Raven’s colors, black and red. There were black stone statues of ravens placed all over the room and no windows anywhere. The desk at the far side of the room was half hiding a brown haired woman who smiled at them as they entered and looked horribly out of place. 

“Morning! How can I help you?” She asked pleasantly.

“We’re here for Riko,” he said, and she nodded, clicking some things on her computer. 

“Oh you must be Andrew then, perfect, he should be on his way then, you can sit over there while you wait, or just go ahead into the conference room?” she said, smile still seeming too wide in the dark room. Andrew didn’t respond, instead going through the door she’d gestured to. Neil was on his heels, and followed suit as Andrew sat in the chair at the far end of the table so he had his back to the wall. 

“You had to make an appointment to see this guy?” Neil asked, unsuccessfully hiding a smile. 

“He does need to get his superiority complex from somewhere,” Andrew replied, and pulled out his phone so he could play snake to pass the time. Neil took the hint and quieted, amusing himself by looking around the room. Riko didn’t show up for another thirty minutes. 

“Andrew Minyard,” his oily voice said as he shut the door behind him, Andrew didn’t show any emotion, keeping his face expressionless. 

“Yam-boy, I’d say I’m glad you finally showed up but I don’t usually make a habit of lying,” he said flatly, and Riko’s eyes flickered with contempt for a second before he strengthened his toothy grin. He looked the same as always, dark hair and pale skin matching the Edgar Allen aesthetic. Plus his pale skin made the 1 on his cheek that much more prominent. It used to match Kevin’s 2, until Kevin had grown a bit of a spine and replaced it with a chess queen– it had all been very dramatic, and Andrew had been the one to field all the threatening text messages Riko had fired Kevin’s way.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked, neatly ignoring Andrew’s remark. His eyes suddenly flicked over to Neil, and he raised a brow– gaze dragging over Neil in a way that made Andrew have to fight not to clench his jaw. Like Neil was a new toy just waiting to be ripped into. “And who’s this?” 

“Nobody, Polyphemus, you can ignore him,” Andrew said, kicking his feet up on the table to subtly block Riko’s view of Neil. Riko seemed to realize this, and his eyes gleamed for a second before he sat down across from them. 

“Then why did you bother with bringing him? Don’t you know it’s rude not to introduce guests?” Riko said smoothly.

“I’m Neil,” Neil said, watching Riko suspiciously. 

“Pleasure to meet you Neil, I’m Riko,” he said, then his smile widened, “I’m sure you already knew that,” he added, and Neil hummed and turned to Andrew. 

“Huh, you really weren’t exaggerating about the arrogance thing were you?” he said, and Andrew had to bite his tongue against a smile. Riko bristled, but managed to recover himself. 

“You should watch your tongue,” he warned darkly, and Neil shrugged. 

“Be something worth watching it for and then maybe I will,” he said, Andrew couldn’t hold back a smirk. Especially when Riko’s jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists. 

“Careful Andrew, you don’t want your friend here to say something he might regret,” Riko said cooly. 

“He’s a big boy, he’ll take care of himself,” he said nonchalantly, but he pinched Neil under the table. Neil’s jaw clenched and he glared out of the corner of his eye. As entertaining as it was to watch Neil piss Riko off, Andrew wasn’t an idiot, and he didn’t need Neil getting on Riko’s radar.

“Might I inquire why you decided to interrupt my class time?” Riko asked, and Andrew snapped his fingers. 

“Right, _that,_ I need you to give a little message to your higher ups,” Andrew said, and Riko’s eyes narrowed slightly. 

“We have a school office for that,” he said, and Andrew laughed humorlessly. 

“No, I meant that family you’ve been booted from,” he said, and Riko’s jaw clenched, he scowled at Andrew, but Andrew moved on before he could spit out some threat. “Can we skip over the boring _‘I’ll make you hurt in unimaginable ways’_ thing? Thanks, I can’t stand useless posturing. And this is in your best interest anyways, I come with a warning.” Riko’s scowl deepened.

“And _what,_ pray tell, might that be,” he said through gritted teeth.

“There’s a killer hunting down anyone affiliated with the Butcher,” he said, it tasted a little sour to warn Riko about his possible death. Riko’s smile returned, sharklike and annoying. 

“Oh really? And why would I need to be warned about that?” Riko said, and Andrew shrugged.

“I heard you love gossip,” he said, and Riko’s teeth ground a little. 

“So Neil, people typically have a last name,” Riko said, turning his attention to Neil. 

“They do,” Neil said curtly, and Riko’s teeth ground a little more. 

“Yours is?” 

“None of your business.” Riko laughed at that.

“Everything is my business.”

“Entitled much?” Neil remarked and Riko flipped his palms up in a half shrug as he smiled. 

“What can I say? I always get my way,” he said, eyes roving over Neil again. Andrew rested his hands on his forearms. “Name?” He pestered again, and Andrew watched Neil’s jaw clench. 

“Neil.” He said, Riko laughed. 

“Ooh, Andrew _where_ did you get him, he’s fun,” he purred, and Andrew rolled his eyes and stood up. 

“In a gutter. Come on Neil, time to let Riko get back to class,” he said, grabbing Neil’s shoulder maybe a little too roughly and shoving him out past Riko. Andrew turned back and gave Riko a mocking two fingered salute and saw his dark eyes lingering. He pretended to ignore it and followed Neil out. 

“Hope to see you soon Neil!” Riko’s voice called after them, and Neil opened his mouth like he was going to respond but Andrew flicked his forehead. 

“ _Ow,_ stop _doing_ that,” he hissed as they got back into the car. Andrew ignored him and forced himself to pull out of the parking spot at a casual speed. Not wanting to risk giving Riko the satisfaction of watching him race away. 

“You’re a dumbass,” Andrew said finally, after they’d driven for a few miles in silence. Neil shot him an exasperated glare. 

“I said like one thing,” he argued, and Andrew sighed. 

“Yakuza Neil, _Yakuza._ Riko might be an arrogant family reject but he’s still not someone you should be pissing off,” he growled, Neil opened his mouth and glared but Andrew cut him off, “Especially not as someone with your secrets.” Neil dropped his gaze and scowled at the dashboard at that. 

“You thought it was funny,” Neil pointed out petulantly after a second, and Andrew scoffed. 

“I also think Oedipus is hilarious,” he said, and Neil wrinkled his nose distastefully. 

“I don’t know who that is, or ‘Polyphemus,’” Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Oedipus fucks his mother and kills his father and when he finds out he gouges his eyes out, Polyphemus is a cyclops,” Neil eyes him, his brow furrowed. With the light shining in from outside it lights Neil’s hair on fire and makes his eyes glow. And he’s watching Andrew with a slightly cocked head like he’s just realized something and– and Andrew reached out and flicked his forehead. Neil hissed in pain and glared at him, holding his head protectively.

“Stop _doing_ that.”

“Stop staring.”

“Stop making weird, smart-guy references,” Neil grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the seat. 

“It’s basic knowledge, haven’t you ever heard of Odysseus?” Andrew growled back, slightly defensively, and Neil laughed. 

“If you’re trying to prove your point that you aren’t smart by name dropping another fancy name only a smart-guy would know it’s not working.” Neil said teasingly, and Andrew scowled at him and flicked his forehead again, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut. 

“I hate you,” he said, and Neil grinned. 

“I hate you more smart-guy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if you don't know: Odysseus tricks the mostly blind cyclops Polyphemus by saying that he is 'Nobody' and then kills him while all the other Cyclops' (Cyclopi?) laugh at him for yelling "NOBODY IS KILLING ME!" I've got a huge thing for greek mythology so it may or may not pop up an embarrassing amount so I can use Andrew to pretend dropping smart-guy references is cool
> 
> Thank you all for reading!!! You're all amazing and fantastic and gorgeous and I love each of you beautiful people!!
> 
> Next time: Riko gets spicy and Andrew is having none of it


	7. Neil Throws a Temper Tantrum and Stays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Panic attack/ bursts of anger/ a hole in a perfectly good wall because flip phones are indestructible

Neil sat on the edge of his bed and waited until he was sure Andrew was gone. 

He’d said he had class, which checked out since it was monday and he’d also had morning classes for the past two weeks, but Neil still felt flighty. After a couple more minutes of listening for the front door to open again and Andrew to drop his keys Neil jumped up. 

He left his room and all but jumped into the chair at the kitchen table, opening his laptop. It was ancient, and so it only worked when it was plugged into the charger, and none of the outlets worked in Neil’s room. The perks of modern housing he supposed. 

It had been a pain, since that meant that the only times he could get any research done was when Andrew was out of the apartment. As soon as Google booted up he typed in ‘Moriyama.’ 

After a few moments of waiting the page finally loaded, and Neil clicked on the first thing to pop up– which happened to be a wikipedia article on Riko. He scanned it, nothing new looking, but payed a little more attention when he noticed the name Moriyama pop up. The page linked to another article, and when Neil clicked on it he found a whole new page dedicated specifically to the Moriyamas. 

_The most well known Moriyamas in America are Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama. An uncle and son duo known for being the award winning coach (Tetsuji) and Court-bound star player (Riko) of Edgar Allen College’s Exy team. Both Tetsuji and Riko are related to a highly well known family from Japan, the Moriyamas. While the family is mostly private, we only really know that they migrated from Japan sometime during the 1900’s– possibly during the Meiji restoration, and settling in the states in Hawaii and Los Angeles. The family reportedly had ties to the Yakuza (a mafia-like organization based in Japan) in Japan, but whether the family continues those traditions is unproven._

There was barely any more information on them, the family was rich, consisted of Kengo Moriyama (Riko’s father), Hinode Moriyama (Riko’s mother), Ichiro (the older brother who lived with Kengo), Tetsuji, and Riko. In some sources Kevin was also listed as being the adopted son of Tetsuji but most of them had been corrected. 

Neil frowned, and then glanced at his phone as if he could will it to ring. He’d gotten one of his contacts to do some digging into Riko and the Moriyamas, but the contact still hadn’t gotten back to him. It had only been a day, but Neil was feeling impatient, and he only had a small window of time if he was going to look over the research before Andrew got back. 

He forced himself to close all the tabs on his laptop and shut it. He was starting to get into theory territory and had no way of knowing whether or not any of them were credible articles. He couldn’t risk getting facts mixed up.

He sat at the table, fidgeting for a moment and staring at the phone. Then he groaned and stood up, dragging a hand through his hair as he went over to the couch and turned on the tv. There was one of Andrew’s crime documentaries queued up and Neil played it, needing some kind of distraction while he waited. He realized a bit later that Andrew would probably be mad that he hadn’t used his own profile to watch it and saved Andrew’s place in the movie. He made a mental note to rewind it when he finished. 

Suddenly the phone rang, and Neil almost tripped he was up so fast. He flipped open the phone and muttered the code word he was supposed to– this time it was in German, he’d made sure to get rid of the last contact and get someone who could actually encrypt their conversations. 

He got a chill up his spine when instead of the other codeword reply he heard harsh laughter. 

“ _Josten,_ that’s a good name, can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to share it with me,” Riko’s voice said on the other end of the phone, and Neil clenched it so tight his knuckles went cold and white. 

“How did you get this number,” he demanded, and Riko laughed again. 

“I told you Neil, I always get what I want, and was that German? Hmm, you’re full of surprises, how many languages do you speak?” Riko asked, and Neil scowled.

“None,” he growled, and Riko tsked him. 

“What did we learn about that last time Neil?” He cooed. 

“That’s not something you can get by doing a google search, I’m not afraid of you.” Neil said. 

“You’re right, Josten was easy to find– and also not nearly as interesting as the rest of the information I found.”

“Like what? My shoe size? I’m quaking,” Neil said, trying desperately for nonchalance and hoped that Riko couldn’t hear his pounding heart over the phone. 

“Like how Neil Josten died at the ripe age of sixty twelve years ago,” Neil bit his tongue against a curse. 

_Of course._ Of course this would happen. When he’d been on the run his mother had always checked to make sure they weren’t taking the ID of someone who already had lived, for this _exact_ reason. Neil had been too caught up in planning and grieving and _running_ to remember to check. That was biting him in the ass. He dragged a hand through his hair and tugged with the ghosts of his mother’s finger while scowling at his own stupidity. 

“Or how–” Neil panicked and hung up the phone. Blood was rushing in his ears and his fingers were going numb as his scalp tingled from where he was tugging. Immediately the phone started ringing again, Neil let it ring a few times before gritting his teeth and picking up the call. 

“Tsk tsk Neil, didn’t your mother ever tell you hanging up on people is rude?” Riko’s taunting voice said, “Don’t worry, you’ll learn to do as I say in time,” he added smugly. 

“Go fuck yourself, I’m _never_ doing anything for you,” Neil hissed, Riko laughed. 

“I’ll be in touch Neil, and you have one chance to tell me your real name before I figure it out, or else.” Neil’s teeth were grinding. 

“Or else what you fucking prick, you don’t scare me, you’re nothing but a power hungry reject whose only purpose in life is to pretend he’s cruel enough to fit in with the rest of his sick family. You don’t have _shit_ on me.” Neil hissed, and Riko was silent for a long moment. For a second Neil almost thought he’d hung up and then his voice came back, soaking in rage. 

“Oh, I don’t have to pretend. Don’t worry, I’m very good at teaching petulant brats where their place is– on their _knees._ ” And then he hung up. Neil growled, and then again, louder this time. The door burst open and Neil threw the phone– it crashed through the wall inches above Andrew’s head, and Neil glared, anger rushing through him in hot waves. It set his scalp on fire and his teeth couldn’t stop clenching. It didn’t help that Andrew was giving him a bored, completely unfazed look. 

“Uh oh, who pissed off baby?” He drawled, and the image of a knife in his neck flashed through Neil’s mind. Instead of following through however, Neil just growled again and stormed off. He yanked his duffle bag out of his closet and started stuffing all of his belongings into it. Luckily everything still fit into the duffle. He zipped it up, still boiling, and tossed the strap over his shoulder. When he turned he spotted Andrew leaning in the doorway of his room– arms crossed and a single eyebrow cocked. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked, and Neil scowled at him. 

“Fuck off,” he growled, shoving past and making his way to the kitchen. He stuffed some non-perishables into the duffle and stuck his wallet in the top before rezipping it and starting for the door. Suddenly Andrew was in the way. 

“Where are you going?” he asked, and Neil clenched his fists. 

“Away,” he said, he wasn’t even sure where. He just knew he had to leave before Riko found out his real identity– and everything else about him. He could feel Neil Josten crumbling around him. It had been ages since he’d had to memorize a new name, a new backstory. This time he’d make sure to get a name that didn’t already belong to someone, and not get anymore fucking roommates.

Neil tried to shove past Andrew again, but he didn’t budge. 

“What’s that mean Neil,” he asked, expression dark. Neil took a step back so he could fix his loathing filled gaze on Andrew. He didn’t even flinch. 

“It means I fucked up, I’m a fucking idiot and Riko is going to figure everything out, I have to _leave._ ” He said, Andrew didn’t move. “Move Andrew,” he growled. Andrew still didn’t move. 

“Running won’t help you, he’ll still know who you are, and be able to out you.” Andrew pointed out, the realism in the statement made Neil’s blood boil and he lashed out. He shoved Andrew aside and lunged for the door. Probably only managing to knock Andrew off balance thanks to the element of surprise, but it didn’t get him anywhere anyways. 

He shoved the door open and got one foot out before Andrew grabbed him by the hips and lifted him clear off the ground, dropping him back inside the apartment and closing the door to glare at Neil, who was fuming. 

“Let me out you fucking–” he started, but Andrew just crossed his arms again, leaning against the door and blocking Neil’s exit. He fixed a disapproving glare on Neil. 

"I don't usually let children roam free, it's irresponsible," Andrew said, and Neil decided that the only reason he wasn't stabbing Andrew was because it would be too much of a hassle to clean up. 

"I'm _not_ a _child!_ Stop treating me like one!" He growled.

“Stop acting like a child and I won’t treat you like one,” he countered, and Neil felt like he might explode. He growled– more screamed– and turned to kick the couch in anger. He turned back to Andrew and jabbed a finger at him. 

“Go _fuck_ yourself you piece of shit, let me out! I need to leave _now,_ I don’t have time for this!” He yelled, and then tried for the door again, but Andrew just blocked him. 

“Neil, calm down,” he said, and Neil bit back another scream. 

“I’m not going to calm down I need to–” he needed to leave. Needed to run, needed to get on a bus and get out of the state. He needed to find one of his mothers contacts, one that would make him new paperwork. No, no, he’d get a passport, buy a plane ticket and go to Berlin. No Riko knew he spoke German that was too predictable. Somewhere in Africa then– no one would expect that, he could get a new identity there and then move somewhere else. Hitchhike or steal a car. Hitchhiking was safer– not safe. No nothing would be safe. He’d been an idiot to think he could stop and stay in one place. _Fuck_ and Matt and Dan knew who he was. Hell Wymack and Kevin knew who he was, and Andrew. There were so many people who could say they knew Neil Josten. He would have to fake his own death. 

A pang of guilt went through him when he thought of the pain that would probably cause Matt and Dan. Then another wave of panic when he realized he couldn’t leave them, he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave. _He couldn’t leave._

“Neil,” Andrew’s voice cut through Neil’s spiraling mind and Neil’s eyes snapped up to him. 

“ _I have to leave,_ ” he choked out, his words sounding as cracked and weak as he suddenly felt. A small part of Neil realized he was grateful that no pity crossed over Andrew’s face, instead it stayed an impassive mask. Calm and steady while Neil felt anything but. 

“No, you don’t. Sit down,” Andrew said, shoving Neil over to the couch. Neil complied numbly. His duffle bag was still around his shoulders and he gripped the strap in his fists. “Breath idiot,” Andrew said, but Neil couldn’t. His lungs had closed and his throat was tight and–

Andrew’s hand was suddenly on the back of his neck, and Andrew shoved Neil so his head was between his knees. Neil gasped for air and Andrew didn’t say anything until his breathing evened out and he finally let Neil sit back up.

Neil felt exhausted as everything caught up with him. 

“What happened,” Andrew asked, his voice was quiet and Neil drew in a ragged breath before he could speak. He loosened his grip on his duffle, too tired to keep clutching it.

“I– I tried to get one of my contacts to look into Riko, and he must have intercepted or– he–” panic started to rise back up. 

“Neil, focus,” Andrew said, and Neil took another breath and tried, swallowing his fear.

“Riko called, he knows Neil isn’t my real name, and he’s going to figure out who I am. I need to–” 

“No, don’t do that,” Andrew cut him off and Neil gave him a pleading, exhausted look. 

“I can’t– he’s going to figure it out,” he said desperately, Andrew’s face hardened. 

“So what, he’s a prissy brat,” he said, and Neil almost laughed. 

“A prissy brat who knows my father,” Neil countered, and Andrew shrugged. Neil felt his anger rise back up and he glared at Andrew, “he could turn me in, and then my father will _kill_ me.” _painfully,_ he added silently.

“Then kill him first,” Andrew said, like it was as easy as that. Neil felt a humorless laugh bubble up inside of himself. “Running won’t help you. Do you really think you can run and keep up your little vengeance streak? Not effectively that’s for sure. If you could you wouldn’t have stopped running in the first place. So you choose, either you quit your murder spree and go running away from the first person to threaten you, or you stay here and fight back.”

“Andrew I want to but– but I can’t, I–”

“Stay, and I’ll protect you,” he interrupted, and Neil blinked.

“That’s suicide, I can’t make you do that,” he said once he came to his senses. Andrew shrugged. 

“You can leave, I promised I won’t spill your secrets. Or you can stay, I’ll deal with Riko, you kill your father, and I’ll watch your back,” Neil stared at him. 

“I can’t make you–” he tried to repeat, and Andrew scowled at him. 

“You aren’t _making_ me do anything Neil, I’m offering, are you staying or are you bolting?” Neil paused. He was too tired by now to be frustrated that Andrew had a point. If he ran he might as well give up the hope of killing successfully under the radar. But he couldn’t stay either, staying meant facing Riko, and the threat of his father. That made Neil’s throat close up. 

_But he could stay._

“Ok,” Neil’s voice said for him, it sounded quiet, and like a betrayal. But also made relief flood through his system. 

“Good, let’s go get Kevin, he’s probably pissed about being locked outside,” Andrew said, standing up and going over to the door and acting like Neil’s life hadn’t just been turned inside out. Neil swallowed, and then remembered just how thin the walls were when Kevin sheepishly made his way into the apartment, eying them both nervously. 

“Are you done?” Kevin asked, and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck off,” Neil and Andrew said at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmhmmm hmmmm mmmmm, oh boyyy. Yuck I hate Riko. 
> 
> Thank you thank you still to everyone reading and kudo-ing and commenting you're literally everything good about the world <33
> 
> Next time: Neil buys a LOT of vanilla ice cream + Andrew is struggling


	8. Andrew Hates Vanilla Ice Cream, Neil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil is petty, Andrew is petty, and King picks favorites while Kevin third wheels and chokes on sexual tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey wow!!! @puddlejumper99 is being a fucking hero and beta-ing for me!?? So if the grammar starts making more sense suddenly or I remember to reincorporate key events it's cause of this cool cat.
> 
> (Check her stuff out, she's an amazing writer, you won't regret it. I promise it'll rip out your heart)
> 
> Also?? it's wednesday again??/ Huh??? Someone get me on the phone with the person in charge of time I need a word

“How much did you hear,” Andrew asked as soon as Neil left. Kevin was sitting at their kitchen table, case files and sticky-notes spread out around him. His handwriting was a wreck since he was still getting used to using his right hand. His left was curled up to his chest, unconsciously flexing his fingers as much as he could in a silent tick.

When Andrew spoke he froze. After a second he dropped his pen and looked up at Andrew. He looked more annoyed than anything, once he’d realized it had just been Neil throwing a fit and not an intruder he’d started acting like a brat. 

Andrew wasn’t quite sure what he had done to deserve the company of brats– or why he forced himself to tolerate them.

“Nothing,” Kevin said, and Andrew waited expectantly. “We heard Neil yell, you told me to stay outside and then you disappeared. I heard Neil screaming about something, and then the door opened and you yanked him back in,” he explained, “Then I just heard Neil yelling, I couldn’t actually hear what he was saying just that he sounded pissed,” he finished, then eyed Andrew. “I don’t know what you did, but don’t do it again, I got weird looks from the neighbors for waiting outside and I didn’t know how to explain your lovers spat,” he said lowly, scowling slightly.

Andrew rolled his eyes. _Brats. Everyone is a fucking brat._

“It wasn’t a _lovers spat_ Kevin, and you’re good at soothing situations what do you care,” Andrew said, satisfied that Kevin hadn’t heard something incriminating. He opened the freezer and pulled out a tub of ice cream. Andrew had sent him on a take-out run after five minutes of anxiously half-listening to Andrew and Kevin brainstorm. Andrew looked over his shoulder to make sure the duffle bag was still sitting in its place by the door. 

Part of him hoped Neil wouldn’t still be mad, he had a bad habit of buying only vanilla ice cream when he was mad and Andrew was getting sick of it.

“Well then what _was_ that?” Kevin asked pointedly, he’d started flexing his fingers again, this time more from annoyance than passive tick. 

“Neil being a brat,” he said, Kevin glared at him. 

“That’s not an answer,” he said with gritted teeth. Andrew shrugged.

“Sure it is, because that’s what was happening,” he said unapologetically. 

“Fine, _whatever,_ just don’t do it while I’m around again,” he grumbled, going back to the notes. Andrew plopped down at the table, tossing his leg up and spooning ice cream out of the tub. He’d found the last pint of peanut butter chocolate, and so he ignored Kevin’s scowls. 

“Tell me about the Butcher,” he said before Kevin could launch into one of his speeches about _‘clogged arteries’_ and _‘unhealthy habits.’_ Kevin winced at the name. 

“We didn't meet him” Kevin said slowly. Andrew raised a brow He dropped his pen again and took a deep breath. “he was out or something, we met his partner or something, Lola Malcolm,” Kevin said, and Andrew sighed. 

“Haven't you met him before?” he said impatiently, and Kevin scowled at him. 

“He’s big– taller than Wymack, you wouldn't think he's a killer but there's something... _off_ about him. Malcolm let us search the house but said that the basement was under renovations and we couldn’t go in,” Kevin remembered, “She was…” Kevin tapered off and got a scared look in his eye. Andrew snapped his fingers at him, and he jumped, but focused back in. “She was freaky, definitely not someone I’d want to deal with– or see again, _ever._ ” Andrew hummed at that. Before he could comment at all though, the door opened and Neil walked through. He looked exhausted, with pink tinted cheeks and sweat damp hair. He was also breathing heavily and Andrew had a _very_ difficult time tearing his eyes away. Then he bent over to pet the yowling King and Andrew physically had to rip his gaze away. Instead he scowled at his ice cream. 

“If you got vanilla again I will skin you,” Andrew growled, and Neil breathed a short laugh– a short _breathy_ laugh that Andrew was not imagining causing. Not at all. Then he dumped the contents of the bag in front of Andrew. Chinese takeout and _eight_ pints of vanilla ice cream tumbled down. 

“Fuck you,” Neil and Andrew said at the same time. Kevin glared between them and muttered something about third wheels. Andrew kicked him under the table and then pointed at Neil before he could sit down at the table.

“Shower, you reek and I’m not letting you sweat it out in my chairs,” Neil rolled his eyes but went to the bathroom. 

“Technically they’re _my_ chairs,” he grumbled and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Children should be seen and not heard,” he said, and Neil laughed, slamming the bathroom door shut. Andrew was thinking about _seppuku_ and not the image of Neil undressed and damp from the shower. 

No. He. Was. Not. 

King jumped into his lap suddenly, and she meowed at him. If he didn’t know any better he’d say she was laughing at him. He scowled at her. 

“I will feed you chocolate,” he threatened. She purred and butted her head against his arm. He pointedly ignored her and went back to eating ice cream. When he looked back up Kevin was watching him with narrowed eyes and a thoughtful look. “What?” he growled, and Kevin hurriedly shook his head and went back to the files. 

After about ten minutes Andrew heard the shower cut off and then Neil reappeared.

“So, any updates?” he asked, then he noticed the ice cream still on the table, he raised a brow at Andrew. “You just going to let that melt?” he asked, and Andrew shrugged. 

“Figured we could use some ants,” he said, and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“No, not really,” Kevin said, pointedly ignoring them. Neil turned his attention to Kevin as he stuffed all the pints into the freezer– they barely fit. “We’re still mostly at square one. We know who the victims are, and have a good guess at what the motive is, but we just can’t find a suspect,” Kevin continued. Neil nodded and walked around the table, stealing King out of Andrew’s lap when she started trying to climb over him to Neil. They both plopped down in a chair and King started kneading at Neil’s thighs. He stroked her absentmindedly. 

Andrew’s phone rang suddenly and he’d never been so happy to see Aaron’s name. 

“Hmm, there’s a bitch calling me,” he said, picking it up. Kevin and Neil rolled their eyes. 

“Andrew,” Aaron’s voice said, and Andrew sighed. 

“Aaron,” he mocked. 

“Did you get Nicky’s text?” he asked, and Andrew frowned. He’d made a habit of ignoring most of Nicky’s texts, they tended to be 50% emoji’s and 50% bad innuendos. 

“Did I?” he responded, and Aaron groaned on the other end of the phone. 

“Would it kill you to pick up your phone?” he asked, and Andrew hummed noncommittally. 

“Probably, every minute you waste is a minute of me slowly wasting away,” Andrew said flatly, “Ow, my brain cells,” he deadpanned. He noticed Neil biting back a smile and pretended shit didn’t flutter in Andrew’s gut.

“He and Erik are coming down for the Fourth, they need a place to stay and mine’s full.”

“What makes you think mine isn’t?”

“It’s just you and Neil.”

“It’s just you and Katelyn.”

“Kate and I have testing that week, I won’t be able to deal with Nicky without killing him,” Aaron said, which almost made Andrew laugh. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he said. “Why doesn’t he just get a hotel?” he asked after a moment's thought, and Aaron sighed– sounding equally as annoyed. 

“He wants to be around us and _‘not in some dingy American dump._ ’” he said, adding the last part in mocking German. Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Neil’s apartment is the definition of dingy American dump,” he said, and Neil glared and threw a pen at him. King purred louder and Andrew scowled at both of them. 

“Can you just do this for me?” Aaron pleaded, and Andrew let out an only partly exaggerated sigh. 

“I’ll talk to Neil, but if he says no then Nicky can go fuck himself,” Andrew hung up before Aaron could say anything else, and Neil was watching him with a raised brow. “Nicky wants to stay here for the fourth,” he explained, and Neil shrugged. 

“Ok,” he said, and Andrew scowled at him. 

“With his husband,” he added, and Neil shrugged again. 

“Hopefully they aren’t allergic to cats,” Neil said with a smirk that said he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. Andrew scowled at him. 

“I hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was real short, but they'll kick back up soon. Hint: the fourth is going to be very, VERY, interesting. I have to figure out a plot looolll.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to everyone still reading!!!! All your comments and kudos make me squealllllll <33333
> 
> Next time: a lot of phone calls. Neil meets Nicky(!!!!!) Matt gives Neil relationship advice, and Neil ponders romance (and is generally tragic)


	9. Neil Chats and Questions Sex Appeal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone chats, Nicky!!! Matt!!! Jean!! and Neil being confused. Starts boring, ends frustratingly. We stan tragedies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO: IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE NICKY. AND DO NOT HOLD HIM TO WEIRD STANDARDS THAT NITPICK HIS ACTIONS WHICH ARE CAUSED BY TRAUMA (that we also keep Andrew and Neil exempt from). His life has been rough and he's healing just like everyone else so in this house we do not tollerate Nicky hate. (Not to say that all of his actions are appropriate I'm just saying not all of Andrew's or Neil's are either but we can sweep those under the rug? Sorry I'm feeling emotional and I love Nicky so much. I love them all so much so yeeee)
> 
> K rant over. Thank you thank you again to people commenting/ kudo-ing and my beautiful beta-er @puddlejumper99 
> 
> I still honestly think it's so cool that people are actually reading this XD I never share my writing so this is weiirrrdd and neeewww but it's been a great experience so far so thank you all.

Neil regretted agreeing to let Nicky stay at his apartment as soon as he met him– a day after agreeing. And technically he hadn’t even met him, just talked with him on the phone. Neil had only agreed because he knew it would annoy Andrew– the same reason he’d bought so much vanilla ice cream. 

He hadn’t even meant to talk with Nicky, but he and Andrew had been coming back from another meeting with Wymack, new information about Nathan and the Moriyamas buzzing through his head and mixing with the anxiety of them being so close on his tail to make a sour taste in his mouth. Kevin had even grumbled something about him needing to work out whatever he and Andrew were fighting over– whatever the hell _that_ meant. 

Neil wasn’t really mad at Andrew. He was frustrated, but he wasn’t going to admit it because he was frustrated that Andrew was right. And he was mad at himself for taking the deal in the first place, for cementing himself into place. For trusting someone enough to convince himself to. Thinking about all of it just made Neil want to tear his hair out, and then Andrew’s stupid phone _would not stop going off._

When the phone rang the first time, Andrew pulled it out of his pocket, glanced at the caller ID, and tossed the phone in the center console. Neil ignored it, waited for the phone to stop ringing, and opened his mouth to say something. 

Then it rang again. And again. And _again,_ and Andrew was ignoring it. 

The phone rang. _Again._ Neil glared at Andrew. 

“Are you not going to pick that up? It sounds like someone wants to talk to you,” he said through gritted teeth as the ringtone played for the fiftieth time. Andrew ignored him. “Fuck you,” he said eventually and picked up the phone for him.

“Oh my _god!_ Finally! I’ve had to call like a million times just to get ahold of you!” said a voice in German, speaking _very_ fast. 

“Who is this?” Neil asked in English once he’d caught his bearings. 

“Andrew?” the voice asked, and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“No,” he said simply, and the voice was quiet for a moment. Then the fucking phone exploded–

“Oh my god I’m so sorry, I thought this was my cousin’s phone I didn’t realize I had the wrong– fuck I’ve been calling nonstop oh my god I’m so sorry– and I thought this number was– oh god– I’m so sorry–” he said, switching to English and speaking so fast he was cutting himself off as he apologized profusely. Neil blinked again. 

“No, this is Andrew’s phone, you must be Nicky right?” he said, earning a scowl from where Andrew was sitting. Neil scowled back. 

“Wait what? Who are you? Why do you have Andrew’s phone? Why is he _letting_ you use his phone?” He asked and Neil sighed. 

“Neil. He wasn’t picking up the phone and his ringtone is fucking annoying,” Neil said honestly, and Nicky laughed on the other end. Then he gasped dramatically. 

“ _NEIL!_ Oh you’re the hot roommate! Thank _god,_ Andrew hadn’t told me _anything_ about you and all Aaron said was that you were a prick,” he babbled. Neil blushed. 

“What?” he managed, and Nicky laughed. 

“Yeah, Aaron’s kind of a prick too though so I wouldn’t take it personally. Oh! Describe yourself for me, will you? Your voice sounds pretty hot, what’s your accent, I can’t place it??” Nicky said, and Neil sighed again. 

“Ambiguous,” he said, bluntly. 

“Huh, never heard of that one– _oh!_ Wait you mean _ambiguous,_ fuck I’m an idiot,” he prattled and Neil pulled the phone away from his ear to stare at it with wide eyes for a second. When he put it back to his ear Nicky was plowing ahead full steam, “–have to tell me about yourself! I know _nothing,_ because Andrew won’t give me details and you already know what Aaron said. I mean I got Andrew to say that you’re apparently hot so that’s a something, and he’s letting you use his phone which is weird because he _never_ lets fucking anyone use his shit so that’s weird– actually wait that’s really weird, how are you not getting stabbed right now? I think I still have a scar on my fucking pinkie from when I tried touching his car– it aches when it rains, I swear to god– Erik says I’m making shit up but I’m not. OH! Also by the way has Andrew told you about my husband Erik!? He’s amazing, and kind and strong and beautiful, what’s your type, you sound like you would have been my fling type, damn so far away, otherwise I’d–” someone on the other end of the phone cut Nicky off, and Neil was so grateful he almost cried. “Right, you’re right, sorry, I’m babbling my bad, I’m just excited, but you have to tell me something about yourself!” Nicky said. Neil got the feeling that the speed of his words could probably power a small colony for years.

“Uh, I have blue eyes?” he said, not wanting to give too many details about himself to a stranger. It was Andrew’s cousin, who he seemed to trust, but that didn’t really make Neil feel all that comfortable. 

“Mmmm, I _die_ for blue eyed boys, would you say ice blue or stormy sea?” he asked, and Neil blinked. 

“I have no idea,” he said, and Nicky laughed. 

“You’re adorable. Ok blue-eyes, anything else, body type? Tattoos? Weird hair? Tall? Short?” Nicky pestered.

“Uh, I’m like 5”3’,” he said, feeling like that was a safe descriptor. 

“Oooh, you’re taller than Andrew, I bet he hates that.” 

Neil laughed at that. “Actually, yeah,” he said, and Nicky laughed with him. 

“Ok, so blue eyes, little less than average height, freckles?” 

Neil blinked again, he glanced at Andrew. “Do I have freckles?” he asked, turning the phone away from his mouth so Nicky wouldn’t hear him. 

“Yes,” Andrew said without hesitation. He didn’t even look over at Neil, and Neil went back to the phone and rubbed at his cheeks when they started heating up. 

“Yes?” he said over the phone, and Nicky made a sound like he was actually dying. Neil’s eyes widened in distress. 

“Oh _fuck,_ you are hot, aren’t you??” Nicky said, and Neil frowned. He decided not answering would be his best option– which ended up working better anyways since Nicky started back up again before he could think of anything else to say. “ _Ugh,_ and you have a good voice too? Tell Andrew he’s going to have to share when I come down for the Fourth,” he said, and Neil furrowed his brows. 

“No, I don’t– wait, _share–_?” he said, and Nicky laughed again. 

“Oh don’t worry, you don’t have to, and if Erik’s able to get time off and comes down you’ll have no chance but otherwise…” he tapered off suggestively, and Neil blinked. 

“Um… still no.” he said, and Nicky laughed. 

“Alright, alright I’ll calm down. You must really be hot though, because Andrew doesn’t lie about that stuff. Well, he doesn’t lie in _general,_ but he’s all blunt and chill about everything– he takes the fun out of looking! We used to go to Eden’s like every weekend and all I could get out of him was _‘eh, that guy looks ok,_ ’” Nicky said, dropping his voice mockingly for an Andrew impression, “But he told me explicitly that you were hot so that must mean you’re fine as _fuck,_ ” he blasted on, and Neil frowned slightly. 

“He said what about me?” he asked, and then Nicky burst into another excited rush of talking. 

“I _know,_ I was surprised too but–” suddenly the phone was snatched out of his hand and Andrew put it up to his ear, pointedly glaring out at the road. 

“I will skin you,” he hissed in German, and then hung up. Neil tried to hide his smile. 

“So you think I’m hot?” Neil said, and Andrew rolled his eyes as he pulled to a stop in front of the apartment. 

“I already told you that.” he said bluntly, still not looking at Neil as he got out of the car. Neil sat for moment, blinking after him–and then realized Andrew had locked him in the car. He rolled his eyes and undid the lock, making sure to re-lock it as he closed the door and went into their apartment building. 

Hot. 

_Hot,_ was not a word Neil would use to describe himself, or anyone really. He could mostly tell the difference between someone aesthetically pleasing and not, but he didn’t really ever think about it. Matt had tried to get him to look through some app called Tinder when he first started working at Biscottea, but that had just made Neil more confused. 

It didn’t make any sense to pick someone from the app. He didn’t know anything about the person aside from their bios–and if Matt was anything to believe those were far too easy to lie in. And besides, Neil didn’t even know what he was supposed to do if he did meet up with someone, sit awkwardly? Then Matt had tried to explain hookups and one night stands and that had made even less sense. _Why would anyone go looking for sex?_

He’d been kissed, and had sex–twice–and both times (kisses and sex) had been weird. Slimey and uncomfortable and too much skin contact. He couldn’t figure out where to put his hands and was mostly just wished it would end as soon as it started. Then he’d also been beaten so badly he couldn’t see out of his left eye for a week the second time he got caught. His mother hadn’t been very supportive of his experimental phase, so it had lasted as long as they’d stayed in France–two weeks. _People are manipulative. You can’t trust anyone. Sex is dangerous, people are dangerous. We need to leave now._

Neil dragged a hand through his hair as he opened the door to the apartment. He sat down at the kitchen table and opened his laptop, glancing over the screen at Andrew. He was sitting on the couch watching one of his crime dramas–Criminal something?–and had tossed one arm over the back of the couch. King was curled up in his lap, and he was resting his hand on her.

Neil could see the appeal, he had a nice face–when he wasn’t scowling–and he was strong. Very strong actually, if the stint from yesterday proved anything. 

Huh. 

He was also smart, and trustworthy, and honest. 

_Huh._ Neil thought for the second time. 

“Staring,” Andrew said from the couch–he wasn’t even looking at Neil, who jumped. Neil sheepishly went back to his laptop, trying to ignore the tingling in his cheeks. Then Andrew sighed, and paused the show. Neil looked back up at him as he turned slightly to face Neil–King grumbled in protest at the sudden movement, but Andrew ignored her. 

“I’m not going to apologize for saying you’re hot, but if it makes you uncomfortable then I won’t do it anymore,” Andrew said seriously, and Neil blinked. 

“No, no, no–no, that’s–uh, that’s not what–I’m not–I just–I…” Neil cut off his own stammering and sucked in a breath. He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as they felt. Andrew just raised an eyebrow at him. “I need to go for a run,” Neil said finally, closing the computer and standing up quickly to dart towards the door–suddenly glad he hadn’t taken off his shoes yet. 

Neil couldn’t think until he was able to blame his red face on exertion. 

He felt dumb, and annoyed. _Who forgets how to speak like that?_

 _No. I’m not uncomfortable with that, I’m just not used to being called_ hot.

It was that easy, so why could he barely manage three words? He paused his running and groaned, dragging his hand through his hair and collapsing onto a park bench. He wasn’t sure how far off he was from the apartment, but his legs were burning. 

He miserably wished there was some instructions book he could read. Also for water, which he’d forgotten to bring. He glanced around and spotted a water fountain. The park he’d landed in was empty, which he was grateful for. After he’d had his fill of the water and was feeling a bit more put together he realized he still had his phone in his pocket (Andrew had made him fish it out of the wall).

His mind jumped to Matt. He’d probably know more about all this then Neil did, but Neil also didn’t want to bother him with his crisis. Though, knowing Matt, he’d be overly excited about Neil asking for help. 

The thought of that also made Neil cringe. 

After a few moments of indecision he pulled out his phone and dialed the number. 

“You got Matt Boyd, who’s this?” Matt’s voice said, and Neil winced again when he remembered Matt still didn’t know he had a phone. 

“Uh, hey Matt, it’s Neil,” he said, walking back over to settled onto the bench again. 

“Neil?? You have a phone?! Oh my god hey! Why didn’t you tell me you got a phone?” he asked, Neil sighed. 

“This is actually Andrew’s, I still don’t have one,” he lied.

“Oh, and Andrew is…?” Matt asked, and Neil felt a pang of guilt about forgetting to mention Andrew’s name.

“Right sorry, Andrew’s my roommate, I thought I mentioned that–my bad,” he said, and Matt laughed. 

“It’s fine, I figured you’d tell us eventually. Something up? You never call,” Matt asked, concern painting his tone. Neil dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, biting his lip against the blush threatening to coat his cheeks. 

“Um, no, nothing up I just… uh–how did you–uh, how did you know you wanted to date Dan?” 

“Mm, that’s kind of a hard question to explain? I just, I don’t know, _knew,_ ” Matt started. “At first it was just because I thought she looked hot, but then I got to know her more and then I couldn’t stop thinking about her you know? And imagining spending time with her was so nice– nothing like _actually_ spending time with her but… yeah, I don’t know, that’s it kind of?” He said, “Why? Someone catching your eye?” 

“No,” Neil said reflexively, and it made Matt laugh. 

“Alright, are they cute at least? Nice? Have I met them?” Matt pressed, and Neil gulped, rubbing at his heated face embarrassedly. 

“Uh, I–it’s no one–I have to go,” Neil said, hanging up the phone fast and dropping on the bench next to him like it burned. Thankfully, Matt didn’t call back.

Neil sighed and leaned back against the bench. He was so lost in thought he barely noticed when another man sat down next to him. 

The guy didn’t look that threatening out of the corner of his eye, with dark, thick hair and high cheekbones. He was dressed in dark clothes devoid of any personality, and staring straight ahead with his hands folded in his lap. Neil sat up more, and started to get up, but froze when he heard him speak. 

“You might be the biggest idiot I’ve ever seen,” the man said, he had a thick french accent, and Neil scowled at him. 

“Who are you supposed to be?” he asked, the man didn’t look at him. 

“A messenger.”

“For who?”

“Oh, so you make a habit of pissing off powerful people?” the man asked dryly, and Neil’s scowl deepened. “Who do you think?” he grumbled, turning to face Neil for the first time. There was a dark black tattoo of the number three on his cheek. Neil’s blood froze. 

“How did he know where I was?” Neil asked, jumping up and looking around. Jean Moreau sighed and leaned back on the bench, taking up a more relaxed posture and letting his head tilt back to look up at the sky. 

“Me. He’s had me following you for a few days,” he said. “I should probably thank you, I haven’t been out of the Nest in months.” He sounded almost wistful. “Your mental breakdowns have been very entertaining.” Neil bit his tongue against a remark.

“What do you want?” 

“I told you, I’m a messenger.”

“Then message.”

Jean sighed again and fixed him with a flat look. It reminded him vaguely of Andrew. The kind of look you get when life drains everything out of you and spits you back out to do it again until that’s all you expect.

“Nathaniel,” Jean said finally. Neil watched the name crawl out of his mouth and curl around his neck. Jean looked away from him and back to the sky. “There was some other stuff, but I don’t feel like soiling my tongue by repeating it.” He kept watching the sky as Neil’s body went numb. “It’s not great, though. I think you might have me running for the first spot on his shit list. It is kind of funny to see a Wesninski living the domestic life. The cat was a nice touch. You’re all so good at blending in–well, at least in pictures.”

“Tell Riko he can go fuck himself,” Neil said, finally getting a hold of himself. Jean looked at him again.

“Sure, why not? I’ve been in the mood to get my fingernails ripped out–they’ve been getting long,” he drawled, examining his nails casually. “Hopefully–for you–it’ll help you to have a filter.”

“He doesn’t scare me,” Neil said through clenched teeth. 

“He will,” Jean said, with tails of resentment and hatred curling around the words. “You’re a useless martyr aren’t you? He’ll go after everyone around you, it won’t help.” 

Neil’s mind instantly jumped to Andrew. 

_Fuck, what if this was a diversion?_

He’d called him before he even knew what was happening, and breathed a relieved breath when Andrew answered. 

“Did your legs give out?” he asked, his tone normal and bored.He didn’t sound like he was in danger. Jean smirked at the sky and Neil glared at him.

“No, I’m fine, but I got lost. Come pick me up?” He rattled off the address of the park he was at.

“Let me drop what I’m doing, your highness,” came the flat response, and Neil’s body was too numb to read the sarcasm.

“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. 

“Careful Wesninski, you’re getting soft,” Jean murmured to the sky. Then he sighed and stood up like it pained him. He looked Neil in the eyes and held his gaze for a second. “Riko won’t give up your name yet, he’s going to want to use it for blackmail,” he said in lieu of goodbye. It shouldn’t have provided any comfort, but it did. Neil watched Jean until he disappeared towards the park’s parking lot. He was safe, for now, if only from his father.

Other than that he was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeeeaannnn I love that french bitch. Also Neil is tragic, one (1) person tells him to stay and he's like "oh shit I think I'm in love" I would die for him. And don't worry, Jean still gets yeeted outta the nest (and sooner rather than later) because I can't stand writing him there and I want him smiling in sunny California with certain Trojans. 
> 
> Next time: Andrew isn't stupid and figures out what's up/ "I don't need to be protected"
> 
> Oh! And ya girl pulled her shit together and she's got a plot outlineeee, (it's such a mess that I think I'm going to post it when I finish this lmaaoo) but this is turning out to be like a 20 chapter fic?? And plot stuff is gonna really kick off now that I have an actual plan lol so yeaaah. 
> 
> (and to give you a point of reference because I'm notoriously awful with keeping track of time and dates in stories) I think next chapter will take place like two weeks from the Fourth of July? (also I chose the fourth cause I think it would be hilarious to see the like five most unpatriotic people celebrate America XD like Kevin isn't even white and likes his mom way more than America, Andrew just doesn't give a shit plus the U.S systems have royally fucked him every day of his life, Neil didn't even know it was a holiday, Nicky's basically German now, and Aaron reads the news so he just by default hates America) (those are all definitely not me projecting onto these guys) (what? Noooooo i LOVE my country... just not the fucktards 'running' it)


	10. Andrew Isn't Stupid (Well...)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew isn't stupid and 'some french bitch' isn't a vague enough description for Neil to get away with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you to all you beautiful, magical, wonderful people reading and kudo-ing and commenting, you're all the lights of my life.
> 
> @puddlejumper99 is a god send as usual (bless you).
> 
> Also thank you to @Marjelle for being my actual auntie and supporting me I love you you're so nice.

Something wasn’t right. 

Andrew could tell as soon as Neil got into the car– it wasn’t that difficult, he’d stayed silent and wasn’t looking anywhere but the dashboard. 

At first Andrew thought it was about him, which pissed him off. _If you’re uncomfortable around me why the fuck would you call me to pick you up and not Matt?_ But then he realized it was more likely something that had happened at the park, because otherwise Neil could have done just that and called Matt instead. 

“What happened?” Andrew asked, and Neil jumped like he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone in the car. He blinked at Andrew– who scowled at him. 

“Oh– uh, nothing– nothing I’m fine,” he said with a deep breath that made it horribly easy to realize he was lying. 

“Isn’t lying something serial killers should be good at?” he remarked.

“Not if you’re good enough,” Neil said, and then they spent the rest of the ride in silence. But something was still wrong. When Neil’s foot started jogging as they pulled up to the apartment Andrew paused, and then pointedly held one finger down on Neil’s knee to stop it. Neil jumped again and then rubbed the back of his neck. Andrew gave him a disapproving look. 

“Sorry I’m just–”

“Roof,” he interrupted, already pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He didn’t feel like hearing another lie. 

Neil followed him up, and then settled down on the very edge of the roof, sitting up on the railing with one leg hanging over. It made Andrew’s stomach swoop and his palms sweat. He wanted to grab Neil and drag him back from the edge, but instead he walked over to stand next to him. Carefully planting his elbows on the small railing that boxed them in. He relished in the feeling for a moment, the drop in his gut and the tingling in his body as he got a rush from the fear. Then he lit a cigarette and took a drag, letting the acrid smoke fill him and then breathing out.

When he’d been in high school heights had been something he’d _needed_ almost as much as the cigarettes. Just like he’d needed the cuts in the Spear house. They were all releases, distractions, controlled feelings. Cigarettes give you a rush, you choose when you get it by lighting the stick. Height gives you a rush, you choose when you get it and control it by going closer and closer to the edge. Cuts give you pain, which is the easiest sensation to control. 

There was also the fact that people react better when you have visceral proof of your trauma– which is what Bee thought was his reasoning. But Andrew hadn’t done it to prove it to anyone else, he’d done it for himself. In a time of distress to prove to his future self that he _had_ gone through that and his pain _was_ real even while everyone told him that lingering hugs didn’t count as abuse. 

They were right, they didn’t. But they had been a warning. If only he could go back in time and tell tiny little Andrew that he wouldn’t be needing something so dramatic as scars to remember anything. 

He took another drag of the cigarette and focused on dispelling every thought with the exhale. That was also something Bee was really into, he’d never admitted how much it helped once he got the hang of it. 

“It’s your turn,” Andrew said finally, when he’d nearly finished his first cigarette. 

“Do I get a cigarette?” Neil asked, and Andrew pulled out another one, lit it, and then pointedly stuck it in his own mouth– flicking the old one away. Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Cigarettes are for people who tell the truth,” Andrew said. Neil sighed, and looked back out over the horizon. It was mid afternoon, so the sun was high in the sky and South Carolina seemingly spread out before them. It looked pretty unimpressive. 

“How do you know Kevin?” Neil asked after a while, and Andrew blew out a puff of smoke and kept his eyes on the sky.

“When Riko broke his hand Wymack called me because he assumed I wouldn’t tell anyone and that I had the least gag reflex,” he started. 

“And he was right?” Neil asked, Andrew sighed. 

“Unfortunately,” he said, before continuing. “Kevin was a wreck, but he also had an in to the college that Aaron wanted to go to. Have Kevin Day vouch for you and everyone within 100 miles will want your ass. So I made a deal with him, offered protection from Riko, and he accepted,” Andrew breathed in the cigarette. “After a year or so Kevin grew a spine, he went to the main branch and found out they wanted nothing to do with a crippled down-and-out exy star, so he stood up to Riko and never bothered to renew our deal.” 

Neil just hummed at that, staring at Andrew for some reason. Andrew couldn’t find the energy to scowl at him. So he kept his eyes on the horizon. “What happened at the park?” That made Neil wince. 

“Some french bitch,” Neil said vaguely, obviously hoping Andrew was a fucking idiot. Turns out Andrew did have the energy to scowl at Neil. Who mostly ignored him, and stole his cigarette. He shrugged at Andrew’s scowl. “It’s the truth,” he said, taking a drag and then resting his hand on his knee with the cigarette pinched between his fingers.

“I just told you I protected Kevin from Riko, you think I don’t know who Moreau is?” Neil winced, confirming Andrew’s suspicion. “What did he want.”

“Riko knows who I am, and he’s going to use it to blackmail me, and…” he slowed off.

“And what?” Andrew asked, losing patience. Neil looked at him. 

“And I want to end our deal,” he said, and Andrew’s scowl deeped.

“Why the hell would you do that?” 

“He’s coming after people around me, I can’t do that to you,” Neil said, so sincere that it made Andrew’s hands curl into fists. 

“I don’t need your protection,” he hissed.

“Well you got it.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Go away, I can’t stand martyrs.” Andrew said finally. If he had Neil within arms reach any longer he was going to do something stupid. Whether or not that something stupid involved Neil on the ground at the bottom of the building or on the roof with his arms pinned over his head wasn’t something he wanted to find out. 

“Fine, but I’m serious, I’m not letting you get hurt for this,” Neil said glaring at him and flicking the last of the cigarette off the roof as he got down and went over to the door. Andrew gripped the railing. 

“I don’t want your help,” he growled as Neil opened the door.

“You don’t want to admit that you could use it,” and then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hemmm hemm hemmmmmm *scuttles like some primitive hermit out of a cave and tosses this* *someone grabs me and pulls me back in before I can throw out more* "PACE YOURSELF WOMAN, JESUS!" but I can't, I'm addicted to the validation of kudos and nice comments 
> 
> Forrrkkkk I'm real tired and running on like, .2 hours of sleep this weeeeekk. Nightmares have been fun and I've been drinking so much coffee and writing anything that isn't my actual British Literature assignments to avoid sleeping lmaoo. Sorry if writing quality bombs a wee bit here, I forgot that english only has two words for that "that" and "there" and was really mad cause I couldn't find the right freaking worrrdddd and just stared at the page angrily for like thirty minutes. XDDD
> 
> Next time: sexual tension reaches a fucking peak and Neil throws another tantrum, also for once ISN'T the killer.


	11. Neil is Stubborn and Kevin is the Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: semi-graphic descriptions of a dead body/ a panic attack/ non-con roofie-ing (thanks Rick-Hoe) /excessive bickering/ hatred of Tiphanies everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter got a little long, my b. I wrote out the next chapters so I might post another pretty quick but voila, Riko is a nasty bitch and we do not like him one bit no thanks. 
> 
> ALSO:  
> As always thank you to my amazing beta-er @puddlejumper99 my writing would be incoherent without you

_Stubborn bastard._

“Fucking _finally,_ do neither of you feel like being decent human beings and answering your phones?” Kevin’s annoyed voice snapped, and Neil looked up. He was standing with his arms crossed, glaring at Neil from next to the apartment door. Neil rolled his eyes. “Where’s Andrew?”

“Pouting,” He said. Kevin rolled his eyes so dramatically Neil was actually surprised they didn’t fall out of his skull. He almost wished they would. “Why are you here?” he asked, not having the energy to deal with Kevin’s… well no just all of Kevin. He didn’t have the energy to deal with anything Kevin today. He pushed passed and unlocked the door. King was instantly underfoot, obviously mad about being left alone inside. Neil scooped her up and petted her until she stopped meowing angrily. 

“There was another body,” Neil froze, his mind instantly flying to Jackson Plank–the guy he’d been surveilling for the past couple of days. But he hadn’t killed him. Neil hadn’t killed anyone since DeWall, he’d been too busy between dealing with Andrew, Kevin, and Wymack and still working at Biscottea and now Riko. In fact, thanks to all of that Neil hadn’t even scouted any other possible victims out except Jackson because he hadn’t had time to fish out another new contact and was only going after Jackson because Neil knew he worked for his father. Had _seen_ him working for his father. 

“What?” Neil asked, dropping King and hurriedly going over to look at the case files Kevin was pulling out of his bag and spreading on the table. 

It wasn’t anyone Neil recognized, and it only barely looked like Neil’s work. 

“Kenya Rickends, she was apparently some new hire drug dealer working ‘for’ Wesninski. But I’m pretty sure she was just selling to mostly Wesninski underlings more than actually giving profit to the Butcher.” Kevin started, he pulled another–more graphic autopsy photo of the woman out and set it on the table as he started describing it. “The weird thing is, she has a bunch of premortem injuries. Some lacerations, bruising on her wrists indicated she was tied up. And even though the killing cut was administered in loosely the same fashion– slice across the neck severing the carotid–this one starts on the right side, like the killer attacked from the front.” Kevin rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he examined the photo. “It doesn’t make any sense, why would the killer go this far all of a sudden? So far the worst we’ve seen is with that DiMaccio guy, but to go this all out on someone as insignificant as her? It doesn’t make sense,” he said, and Neil barely heard him. 

He was trying to remember how to breath as his eyes remained glued to the photo. She had cuts all over her body, Neil could tell from experience that they had all been painful. Slowly he realized that this must be a message–either from his father or from Riko. 

“And, see these cuts here–” Kevin said, pointing at the gashes on the corners of the woman’s mouth. He pulled out another photo–from one of Neil’s victims–and set them side by side, pointing to the mouth cuts in that photo to show the difference. “In all the other victims these have been nearly unnoticeable. It’s why we didn’t believe Andrew for so long–but on this body they’re deep and were done premortem opposed to postmortem like all the others,” it was true, the womans face had been cut so horribly that Neil could see her molars. 

He probably would have winced at the idea of it being done to her while alive, but right then all he could think of was the fact that someone had caught on. If it was his father there was a chance he’d only realized _someone_ was killing his people and was trying to send a general message. But if it was Riko it meant he had even more blackmail on Neil.

And that Jean had been right about being afraid if the body of Kenya Rickends was any indication.

The door opened and Neil jumped– moving so he had his back to the wall and a kitchen knife in hand before he even realized. King was yowling because he’d stepped on her tail in the rush but he could barely hear her. His eyes landed on Andrew, who shut the door and was on Neil in a second flat. Neil slouched against the wall and released a ragged breath in relief when he realized it was just Andrew. 

“Neil,” he said, and Neil felt him pry the knife out of his hand and he let him, then Andrew’s hand was on the back of his neck. “What happened?” he snapped at Kevin, who shrugged. His brow was pinched in concern and he kept looking between Neil and Andrew.

“There was another body, it’s– it’s weird.” Kevin explained, and Andrew looked back at Neil.

“Hey, focus, you’re in your apartment, and you stepped on my goddamned cat’s tail, she’s pissed and screaming.” he said, and Neil breathed something that might have been a laugh. “What is it?” Andrew asked, in German this time, and Neil gritted his teeth and looked Andrew in the eyes. 

“It wasn’t me,” he whispered in the same language so that Kevin wouldn’t hear. There was a flash of confusion across Andrew’s face before he let go of Neil and grabbed one of the photos of Kenya Rickends off the table. He took one look at it and then Neil was being dragged into his room. The door closed and Neil leaned against it.

“Wait– no _guys–_ ” they both ignored Kevin’s muffled protests.

“Riko?” Andrew asked, and Neil shrugged. He dragged a hand through his hair and then pushed away from the door and went to the bottom drawer of his dresser. 

“I don’t know, it could have been him, or my father–”

“Or some random dumbass,” Andrew reminded him, and Neil shook his head.

“None of the details have been released yet,” he said, trying to pull the sticky drawer out.

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked as Neil finally got it open. He pulled out the cookbook he’d hidden and flipped through it. 

“Looking for my…” he furrowed his brow. “my uncle’s… _fuck,_ ” he cursed, slamming the book shut and looking around the room frantically. His mind was racing. The pages he had folded as a precaution were unfolded– someone had looked through the book and been in his room. He racked his brain, it could have been anytime from when–

“ _Neil,_ ” Andrew said impatiently, and Neil snapped his eyes to him. “What the hell is going on?”

“Someone was in my book, they must have searched my room too and that means that–”

“That was me,” he said, effectively cutting off all thoughts in Neil’s head. 

“What.” he said carefully, and Andrew shrugged.

“I broke into your room two weeks ago,” he said unapologetically, and Neil’s jaw clenched so tight he felt his teeth creak in their gums. 

He threw a punch at Andrew’s nose with every intention of breaking it. Instead Andrew caught his fist and twisted his arm behind his back. He let go as soon as it had happened and stepped back. 

“Are you really going to throw another tantrum?” he asked, sounding bored, and Neil scowled.

“You _broke into my room_!” He hissed, and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“I think we have more pressing matters,” he said, and Neil sucked in a breath and opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. He clenched his fists. 

“ _Fine._ ” he said, turning around like he was going to shut the drawer. At the last second though he straightened and threw his elbow back at Andrew’s head. Andrew just blocked it and twisted Neil so he landed against the wall. 

“Really?” he asked flatly. Neil offered him a small, sarcastic smile and shrugged.

“It was worth a shot,” he said unapologetically. Then he sighed and leaned against the wall. Andrew flicked his forehead and Neil glared. 

“Stop freaking out.”

“It’s hard not to when I don’t know whether this dead girl means my father is on to me or some new psycho is,” Neil scowled. “And I can’t tell which would be worse,” he added. 

“I said I would protect you, have I lied so far?” Andrew said seriously, and Neil sighed again and looked at him. 

“No but–”

“Kevin’s still alive isn’t he? Riko is old news, I’ve dealt with him before, relax and let me deal with him again,” he countered.

“Riko wasn’t allowed to kill Kevin.” 

“Doesn’t make him different, he’s still a petulant, dumbass who’s ego needs massive deflation.” Andrew said it so nonchalantly that Neil almost believed him. 

“It makes it way different! Riko will get sick of my shit and sell me out to my father, then what are you going to do? Fight to an entire criminal organization? That’s what I’m doing and we all know how well _that’s_ going over,” he said bitterly, “Plus Riko doesn’t give a shit about you, he’ll sell me out and then kill you.” Andrew just shrugged, rage flared up in Neil again. “Don’t fucking do that, your life isn’t meaningless.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

“Well guess what, it’s too late, you’ve got it and if you even _think_ of doing something stupid or dangerous and I’ll turn _myself_ into Riko,” Andrew scowled at that. 

“Stop being a dumbass,” Andrew growled and Neil met his gaze and refused to look away. 

“What, you don’t believe me?” 

“If you actually planned on following through you would threaten to use the collateral.”

“I promised not to use it unless you use mine.” Something flashed over Andrew’s face, anger and confusion and something else Neil didn’t recognize all pooled in his eyes and suddenly Neil realized they were _very_. close to one another. His eyes flicked down to Andrew’s lips without him thinking. “Andrew,” he said, meaning to add more but he couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Neil,” Andrew half mocked, but then he started to lean in and something surged in Neil’s gut.

And then Kevin started pounding on the door. 

“Stop fucking and go over this with me!” he hollered through the door, Andrew was gone from where he’d been standing in a flash and he glared at the door. He threw it open and Kevin muttered something before vanishing towards the kitchen. Neil stood frozen for a moment, his entire body feeling buzzed. His face felt hot and he had to bite his lip against a giddy smile. He shook out his head and pushed away from the wall. 

Kevin gave him a wary look as he re-entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. King started hissing around his feet so he picked her up and was grateful for her warm fuzziness. Thankfully she seemed to realize this and begrudgingly forgave him for stepping on her earlier. She curled up in his lap. Her purring and the motion of stroking her was helping sooth Neil’s shot feeling nerves. 

Kevin had started pinning case files to the kitchen cabinets with the pack of color coded tacs he kept on him. He’d also pulled yarn out of nowhere and was linking patterns with it. So far all of Neil’s murders were linked to ‘killer 1,’ and then the one new one was tied to a question mark. Patrick DiMaccio was tied to both. 

“He could have just been pissed we found out,” Andrew offered, Neil shot him a tired glare that he ignored.

“What like, he figured out we know and are onto him and so he retaliated by doing this?” Kevin summed up, Andrew nodded and reached over to bat gently at King’s ears when she hissed at Neil stopping his petting. Neil hated how hyper aware he was of Andrew’s proximity, he felt his face heat up and started petting King more insistently. She didn’t seem to mind.

“But that doesn’t seem… like, _him,_ ” Kevin said thoughtfully, he was rubbing his chin again and looking intently at the makeshift case board. 

“Because you know so much about him?” Neil asked, and Kevin shot a scowl over his shoulder. 

“I know enough, and even when he was clearly emotionally connected to DiMaccio he still kept it discreet. He’s not flashy,” Kevin insisted. 

“But he didn’t know we were onto him back then,” Andrew argued, and Kevin threw up his hands in frustration. 

“I _know_ this wasn’t him, ok, I just… _know,_ ” Kevin said, his eyes lingering slightly on Neil for a second. Neil swallowed the bad feeling rising its way up his chest. 

“Because we all know how trustworthy the gut of the miraculous Kevin Day is,” Andrew drawled, which thankfully got Kevin’s attention off Neil.

“That was _one_ time!” he all but yelled, and Andrew raised a brow. 

“Is hepatitis a one time thing?” 

“You can’t get hepatitis from raw food, it was probably salmonella– and you didn’t even actually get it.”

“Ah, so you admit I could have.”

“Fuck off how was I supposed to know the guy was incompetent?”

“By reading literally any of the reviews or the Health Department warnings that were being used as wallpaper.”

“I thought it was supposed to be funny.”

“Yes, real funny.”

“Fuck you, we aren’t discussing this, we’re talking about murder,” Kevin said eventually, and Andrew leaned back in the chair and sighed. 

“So my near-murder isn’t good enough for you? I’m wounded Day,” he said flatly, and Neil smirked at Kevin’s bristling. 

“That’s not–” he caught himself before he could rise to the bait and jabbed a warning finger at Andrew before pointedly going back to the murders. Andrew leaned over to Neil–probably barely two inches away. Not that Neil was thinking about it. 

Fuck lying he was _definitely_ thinking about it.

“He’s _learning,_ ” Andrew said, the tone of his voice suggested he was quoting something but Neil had no idea what it was. He smirked nonetheless and hoped his burning cheeks weren’t obvious. 

“ _Anyways,_ I just know it’s not him,” Kevin said, looking at Neil again. Neil pretended to not notice. “ _Right?_ ” Kevin prompted, and Neil shrugged. Kevin threw his hands up over his head in frustration, “Oh my god, ok I’m done with this, Nathaniel I know who you are, now answer me.” he said and Neil flinched at the name so hard King dug her claws into his lap to stay on. 

“Kevin your obsession with this case is starting to get frustrating,” Andrew said, tone warning, but Kevin ignored him. 

“No! I’m sick of this! How stupid do you both think I am!? Nathaniel–”

“ _Neil,_ ” Neil and Andrew corrected at the same time and Kevin looked like he was going to pull out his hair. 

“ _Neil,_ we’ve _met_ before! And Nathaniel was our best suspect until you showed up and then suddenly he’s completely off the table? I’m not fucking _braindead,_ ” he growled.

“Great, well why doesn’t everyone know about my identity then! Let’s tell Wymack while we’re at it!” Neil said bitterly, he was already at the end of a fraying rope and could feel his anger rising back up. Kevin leveled him with a look like _you fucking dumbass._

“He does know, I've met Nathan, you’re a carbon copy and you flinch every time we mention him.”

Neil clenched his jaw and forced himself to stay sitting. “If he doesn’t leave I’m going to kill him,” he growled in low German, and Andrew smirked. 

“Kevin get out,” he said, and Kevin had the audacity to look shocked. 

“What– but– the case–”

“Out, now, it’s past bedtime, and someone’s getting cranky,” he said, not bothering to stand up and making a shoo-ing motion with his hands. Kevin growled, and then stormed off. 

“ _Fine,_ but I’m coming back tomorrow!” he threatened, and then slammed the door. 

****

Sam Cooke was playing in Biscottea, and Neil was trying to ignore the couple lip-syncing it to each other over chai-spice-lattes in the corner of the room. Instead he focused on wiping off one of the tiny tables out in the main dining room. Neil had _just_ watched some little kid find it hilarious to rub his snot nose all over the table and each individual condiment containers within arms reach. The parents had also thought it was funny.

Neil had not. 

Matt was due to show up any minute and Neil wished he would hurry up. The cafe had been busy, bustling with tired looking people rubbing their temples until they got their caffeine. It had been so busy Dan had to come out of the back office to help Neil with the rush, he didn’t think he could handle writing another _Tiffany_ and then getting complaints for not spelling _Tiphanie_ correctly. 

Fuck _Tifpadjfany._

He glanced at the clock over the door, then blinked at the 8:55 the face read. 

“It’s 11:58 Neil, Matt’ll be here any minute,” Dan’s voice called, and Neil sighed in relief. He couldn’t ever remember the clock was broken. He didn’t know why Dan hadn’t fixed it, the seconds hand still worked which gave it the illusion that it was functioning but the other hands stayed frozen at 8:55. It was bright orange and had little fox ears. It was also the reason the cafe had been dubbed “the foxhole,” because Matt wasn’t allowed to yell “WELCOME TO THE SHITHOLE” anymore.

“How’ve you been lately kid?” Dan asked, pursing her lips and getting her coach face in place. She always looked at him like that and called him ‘kid’ when the bags under Neil’s eyes got too big. 

“Fine,” he said, she rolled her eyes. 

“Yeah ok, and?” she prompted, Neil sighed. 

“I’m really fine, just tired,” he insisted. It wasn’t exactly a lie, exhaustion was pulling at his limbs and making his eyelids feel like lead. But everytime he kept his back to the main room for too long he started feeling eyes on him. Butchers and Ravens were hiding in every shadow and Neil was getting sick of jumping ever time a customer opened the door. Dan didn’t look convinced, and she rubbed between her brows like she was getting a headache but thankfully dropped the subject. 

“How’s the new roommate been? Not too loud I hope? Matt told me it was some Andrew?” she said, and Neil almost wished she’d go back to badgering him about his health. He didn’t want to think of Andrew right now–or the apparent stalemate he’d gotten into. Andrew had been pointedly avoiding him since the other night with the almost–almost _whatever._

It didn’t matter and Neil wasn’t thinking about it because fuck Andrew.

“Fine,” he said around clenched teeth and slammed the bus tub down a little too hard by the station to the dish pit. Dan raised her eyebrows. 

“Ok what does _that_ mean?” she asked. Neil didn’t answer, instead he just started unloading the dishes onto the shelves and tossing silverware into the bucket. “Fine, be that way, Matt told me you’ve got a crush–” Neil groaned and spun around on her, she was grinning. 

“It’s not a crush, fuck off.” he growled, which just made Dan smirk, she held up three fingers.

“Ok, so you can tell me why you’re wearing Gucci bags under your eyes, how Andrew’s been, or about this crush you don’t have,” she said, counting off her fingers, Neil just crossed his arms and glared at her. She sighed and added another finger, “or you can tell me how Marshall and the new cat have been,” she said exasperatedly. 

“Marshall’s ok, Andrew bought some kind of soil or something that brought him back to life,” Neil said, grateful for the neutral subject, he went back to unloading the dishes as Dan gaped at his back. 

“Neil,” she gasped, scandalized, “You _killed_ Marshall??” Neil winced. 

“Oh yeah, he’s back alive now,” he said apologetically, and Dan worked her jaw and glared at him. “Well how was I supposed to know you can’t just put cactus’ in dirt??” he said defensively, and Dan widened her eyes. 

“Neil! You need rocks and stuff so the water can drain or else it’ll mold!” she said, and Neil rolled his eyes.

“You sound like Andrew,” he grumbled, taking the tub and setting it under the station with the others. 

“What’s happening?” Matt’s voice suddenly said, Neil had been so caught up in his conversation with Dan he hadn’t even noticed the door opening. Dan dramatically wrapped herself around Matt and heaved a fake sob. Neil scowled at her. 

“Marshall is _dead!_ ” She wailed, and Matt followed suit, he looked at Neil with eyes filled with betrayal.

“No, it can’t be– not _Marshall!_ Neil how could you!?”

“I hate both of you.”

“How are we supposed to pay for a proper funeral??” Matt went on, and Dan dropped the act to laugh, which made Matt crack a smile. “Seriously though, you killed him?” Matt said, still holding onto Dan but looking at Neil. 

“I killed _it,_ but it’s not dead anymore Andrew brought it back,” he said, and Matt squinted at him. 

“Is that a metaphor?” he asked, and Dan gasped and smacked his shoulder playfully. 

“Matthew!” she scolded, and he grinned. Neil wasn’t sure what they were talking about. 

“Alright alright, how has Andrew been?” Matt amended.

“No we’re not talking about Andrew because Neil’s being pissy,” Dan correct, shooting Neil a meaningful glance. Neil ran a hand through his hair and sighed. But a slight smile was trying to tug at his lips. As terrifying as it was that he had people who would remember him, recognize him, _look_ for him if he was missing, it was also strangely comforting. Spending time with Matt and Dan made Neil feel light, it was hard to think about other things with all their dramatics, which was a nice change of pace. 

“Oh, so what _are_ we talking about?” Matt asked, peering down at Dan. 

“Neil what’s your cat’s name?” 

“King, and she’s Andrew’s,” he said, both Matt and Dan raised their brows in sync. 

“King?” Dan said with a small smile, Neil shrugged. 

“I think she has more name but I’ve only ever heard him call her that, or rat,” he added. In fact he almost never heard Andrew address the cat by it’s name, more commonly just threatening her or calling her some insult. Neil had to learn her name by checking the tags. “Oh, right no it’s King Fluffikins,” he said, remembering the name tag–and being surprised that she was an actually registered therapy animal. Matt and Dan burst out laughing.

“That’s fantastic, I _have_ to meet this guy now,” Matt said through laughter. Neil imagined for a moment Matt and Andrew meeting, all he could come up with was the image of a great dane trying to play with a really old cat. Just thinking about it was enough to get Neil to smile. 

“So, how’s the cat?” Dan prompted, and Neil’s smile melted off his face. Replaced instead with annoyance that had been building up for the past weeks he’d had Andrew as a roommate.

“She’s fine, but she won’t sleep unless its in someone’s bed and so she sits outside our doors at night and yowls until one of us gives up and lets her in, and I think Andrew bought earplugs because there’s no _way_ he could just sit through that. She’s _his_ cat also? She should sleep with _him,_ ” he started, then the momentum of all the annoying things he’d been holding in started pouring out. “And, he eats so much sugar? I don’t think I’ve seen him work out or brush his teeth _once_ but somehow he’s got arms the size of basketballs and white teeth?? I think he spends at least half of his income a _week_ on ice cream, and then he gets on _me_ for not eating anything but ramen. Oh, and he brings Kevin over all the time and _he_ won’t shut up about vegetables and forcing kale smoothies down my throat. The only reason he doesn’t do it to Andrew is because Andrew threatened to stab him, but apparently when I say it I’m joking?” Neil rambled and Matt and Dan blinked at him.

“Dude, I think the only time I’ve ever heard you talk that much was when I asked how Penn State played against Belmonte in nationals,” Matt said. 

“Regionals, Belmonte hasn’t made it past playoffs in two years, their new coach is awful,” he corrected without thinking. Dan laughed. 

“Sooo… Andrew huh?” she purred, and Neil threw his apron at Matt and scowled. 

“Fuck off,” he hissed and hurriedly left. 

“Your time card!” Matt yelled, and then winced. “No, no actually I’ll fill it out don’t worry,” he said, and Neil could hear the screeching sound of him trying to open it quietly. 

“Get some fucking WD40!” one of the regulars jeered, Neil couldn’t blame them.

As soon as he was outside the South Carolina heat hit him. Luckily he’d remembered to pack a water bottle, and he dug through his bag to try and find it. The bag was small and not anywhere near as familiar as his duffle, but it was all Andrew was letting Neil carry around. It was probably a good thing, if Neil had anything bigger the temptation to just jump a bus and book it might be too much. But Neil also hadn’t been able to get himself to leave anywhere without _something,_ so the tiny bag was working for now. It held his wallet, a water bottle, and his phone–which was dead. 

The sound of brakes squealing to a slow stop in front of him made him look up, and he felt his stomach drop at the sight of a sleek, black car. He started zipping up his backpack and hoped the car would drive away, but before he could start walking off the door opened. 

The bored face of Jean Moreau greeted him. 

“Get in,” he said, and Neil forced himself to look calm.

“Actually–” 

Jean rolled his eyes. “Get in the car, Nathaniel.” The name made Neil wince but he complied. He looked back in time to see Matt watching him, face pinched in concern. Neil tried for a shaky smile and waved him off. Then he closed the door and the car started driving. Jean glanced over him and curled his lip in distaste and Neil scowled back.

“You couldn’t have chosen a better outfit?” Jean drawled. Neil was wearing his nicer pair of jeans– that had a few holes– and a black t-shirt with the Biscottea logo on it. 

“Like you can say much,” he shot back, while Neil wouldn’t claim to know anything about fashion Jean was wearing essentially the same nondescript black clothing as the last time they’d seen each other.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of choice,” he said quietly, before looking out the window. Neil went quiet at that. They spent the car ride in silence, Neil forcing his leg to stay still so he didn’t give away how nervous he was. 

_Had Riko sold him out? Would his father be on the other end of this ride? Would Lola?_

The thought of that made Neil shiver, and he shook himself out. No, not yet, Riko wouldn’t yet. 

His assumptions were further proved as the car pulled to a stop in front of a little lunch restaurant. The alleyways around it weren’t hidden enough to effectively kidnap someone in, and the lunch place was made off all windows. The building was also too small to have a secret room. Though, there could be a hidden basement. Neil suppressed another shiver, he opened the door, but Jean grabbed his arm before he could leave, and Neil froze.

“Try to watch your tongue, idiot,” Jean hissed, before shoving him out. Neil glared but the door was already closed and the car speeding off. He took a breath, straightened, and walked into the lunch place. He spotted Riko instantly, he’d gotten a booth table in the far corner of the room. Neil forced his feet to go over and stood beside the table. Riko looked over at him and gave him a grin that was all teeth. 

“Glad to see you could come,” Riko said, tone dripping faux sincerity and Neil scowled.

“Huh,” Neil said, and he sat down across from Riko, picking up the menu on the table to block his gross face. He zoned in on the most expensive thing and decided to order five. “You’re paying right? I forgot my wallet while being kidnapped,” Neil remarked, setting aside the menu. Riko grinned at him. It gave Neil a very bad feeling. Riko slid a glass of water over to him and Neil eyed it. 

“Don’t worry, I already ordered for you. Now drink,” Riko ordered, and Neil glared. 

“No, tell me what’s in it,” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the booth away from the glass. Annoyance flicked over Riko’s face before it switched back to the unnervingly pleasant mask. His teeth were clenched the next time he spoke. 

“Water, now drink, _Nathaniel,_ ” he hissed, Neil didn’t budge. 

“That’s not my name,” he said stubbornly, the flicker lasted longer this time and Neil was almost sure Riko would reach over the table and strangle him right there in public. Instead, he just clenched his teeth harder and forced his smile to widen. 

“Your name is what I say it is _Nathaniel,_ or I’ll cut it into Minyard’s skin,” he threatened. The words were quick, but they hit Neil like a sucker punch. He scowled, and set his jaw. 

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, this time Riko’s grin was unburdened. 

“Drink up Nathaniel,” was all he said, and Neil’s gut twisted in disgust. He eyed the cup and then without letting himself hesitate any longer he grabbed it and downed the whole thing. He couldn’t taste anything, but that didn’t soothe him, especially when he looked back at Riko and saw the sickening glee filling his eyes. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing in the water, I thought I’d wait until the desert course,” he taunted. 

Neil bit back the urge to bolt, or snap, or lash out. He forced himself to stay sitting. 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey: don't drug people guys, it's not chill. Also don't threaten not-(yet)-boyfriends, that's also pretty frowned upon. 
> 
> Also I did some research and like, herrrmmmmm the amount of date rape druggings makes me realllyyyy madddd. Also just for context: King is like a legit trained therapy cat–at least in this story. I'm basing her off of one of my friends cats. His name is Toaster and he's adorable, they trained him to purr every-time she breathes deep and he sits on you if you pace too much. They also have him trained to be really loud if she's breathing heavy and like butt up against her to ground her. Honestly I would die for him and King is basically him but way more bitter. Obviously though with King she's been trained not to butt up against Andrew when he's unresponsive and instead just scream louder and louder until he comes back.
> 
> NEXT TIME!: “I’m about to murder someone–or multiple someone’s in the next couple of hours, thought you should know.”


	12. Andrew Tries Very Hard Not to Kill Yam-Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Riko gets beat up (1/?)/ Andrew + Renee Spar/ Neil is non-con drugged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta-ing badass @puddlejumper99
> 
> "Nice, ‘sketball shou’ers," 
> 
> someone save him

Andrew glanced over to the clock on the microwave again. 1:24 pm. 

King hissed at him and dug her claws in from where she was balancing precariously on top of his head and Andrew scowled up at her. 

“I know, stop whining.” he growled back, King hissed again and readjusted herself. _He should be back by now._ “Dig your claws into me one more time and I will throw you into the tv.” She made a noise but wisely left his head. The only reason she’d been on his head was probably to stop him from pacing–like he definitely _hadn’t_ been doing. 

But Neil’s shift ended at noon, when Matt got there–Andrew had heard him complain enough to remember it even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory. Obviously he could be talking with Matt, or going on a run, but it had been an hour and a half. 

Something was wrong, _again._ Andrew sat stubbornly on the couch and stared at the clock until it turned to 1:45 and then pulled out his phone. He’d given up trying to call Neil–the phone kept going straight to the voicemail. Instead he typed in Kevin’s number. Kevin picked up on the third ring. 

“Another body?” he asked immediately, Andrew scowled. 

“No Kevin, not yet at least. I need you to text Dan,” Andrew said, voice filled with condescension that he could feel Kevin glaring at him for. 

“Why?” 

“Ask if Neil left the cafe,” then he hung up. Ten minutes passed of him watching the clock and ignoring King’s low yowling. Finally the phone rang again. 

“She said he left at noon and caught a ride with someone, why?” 

Andrew’s hand tightened around the phone. He hung up and dialed a new number. “Good afternoon Andrew,” Renee’s smooth voice greeted him over the phone. Her pleasant tone made Andrew’s teeth grind. 

“What’s your evening look like?” he asked, she was quiet for a moment.

“Allison’s over, why? Is something wrong?” she asked, her concern only serving to make Andrew more frustrated.

“I’m about to murder someone–or multiple someone’s in the next couple of hours, thought you should know.” he said. It was the closest he’d ever come to asking for help, and she knew it. Not to stop him though, no, he’d need an extra set of knives. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, are you at the apartment?” Renee said, and then there was a knock on the door. He hung up on Renee, and pulled out one of his knives. He forced his posture to relax, and for his face to remain expressionless and looked through the peephole. 

The grinning, shitty face of none other than Riko Moriyama filled the hole. Andrew ripped open the door. The rest of the image was worse.

Riko was standing, smugness radiating off of him, and Neil was rocking on his feet, eyelids fluttering and breathing ragged. Riko was holding him up with a claw-like grip on his arm that Neil was weakly trying to pry off. 

It took every part of Andrew not to shatter Riko’s arm.

Instead he reached out, grabbed Neil and yanked him into the apartment. He shoved him against the wall and then stepped out, closing the door on his slurred protests. 

Riko wasn’t much taller than Andrew, but he was milking every inch and peering at Andrew down his nose. 

“Missing somet–” Andrew didn’t let him finish his sentence, instead swinging a punch that landed with a satisfying crunch right on his stupid one tattoo. Riko reeled from the blow, and Andrew grabbed him by the collar before he could gather himself and slammed him into the door, holding him up so his feet just barely touched the ground, and making sure to jam the door knob into his back.

He almost smirked at the mix of fear and rage in Riko’s eyes as he scrambled to catch his breath. 

“Riko, what have I said about touching my things? I thought you learned this lesson,” Andrew said, calling up a smile from less clear minded days filled with court mandated highs and homicidal thoughts chased away by unwilling laughter, from before Bee had realized he had been misdiagnosed. The Andrew Riko had first thought he could poke at.

Riko’s eyes widened slightly, and his nostrils flared with anger. “That was three years ago, and this isn’t–” 

 

“–Kevin, yes I know. This is Neil, he’s mine,” he said, keeping the grin plastered on his face. “You remember what that means right Riko? Not yours, not your plaything, not your knife holder, not your _anything, mine._ Got that?” Riko sneered at him, hands still grappling at Andrew’s from where it held him up by his collar. Andrew didn’t budge. 

“Nathaniel is _mine,_ he was supposed to be–” Andrew moved his hands from shirt to neck and squeezed just enough to stop Riko’s words. 

“Ah, ah, ah, I don’t see a Nathaniel, if I do I’ll let you know.” Andrew said, still riding the fake high of drugs he’d long since had out of his system. “Blink once for yes, Neil is mine, not yours got that? I’m a very possessive person, and you go anywhere near him again and I’ll kill you myself.” He finished, and Riko held his eyes open for an almost impressive amount of time, but when he finally gave in and blinked Andrew dropped him. Riko crumpled to the floor in a pile and crawled away, scrambling up to standing. 

“You will regret this Minyard, you’ll fucking regret this,” Riko hissed, before turning and high-tailing it out of the building. Andrew waited until he was sure Riko was gone before he went back into the apartment. Neil had slid down the wall to the floor and his eyes fluttered open in a pathetic attempt for awareness. Andrew crouched down in front of him and grabbed his chin in a bruising grip. Every part of him wanted to break Neil’s face, the stupid bastard. But he didn’t, instead he snapped his fingers in front of Neil’s fluttering eyes. 

“Are you hurt? What did he do to you?” he growled, Neil seemed to relax once he realized it was Andrew. 

“‘M fine–there ‘as –oofie… something in m’ ‘andwich,” Neil managed, and Andrew bit back a growl. Of course the dumbass got himself roofied, _in a sandwich?_ Andrew had to tamp down on the new urges to bash Neil’s stupid face in.

“Were you drugged or roofied,” Andrew asked, Neil shrugged and Andrew’s jaw clenched. “Do you not know how to use a fucking phone you idiot,” he snapped, Neil tried for a smile.

“Dead,” he said, and Andrew took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“Yes, or no? I’m going to drag you into your room,” Andrew said, Neil nodded, probably not able to use his tongue anymore. Andrew was grateful. 

Andrew lifted Neil up and threw one of his arms over Andrew’s shoulders. Then he wrapped another arm around Neil’s waist and started half-walking-half-dragging Neil to his bed. Neil giggled. 

“Nice, ‘sketball shou’ers,” he murmured, Andrew wasn’t sure what the hell that was supposed to mean and he didn’t think he wanted to know. There was another knock on the door and Andrew tensed until he heard Renee’s quiet voice calling through the door. He ignored her for a moment and instead shoved Neil into his own bed. Neil groaned and Andrew lifted his legs so he was actually on the bed. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Andrew said and Neil smiled dazedly. 

“N’thing ‘appened.”

“You got drugged.”

“Been ‘rugged ‘fore, don’t like,” Neil commented, “Texas–awful,” he added, gesturing limply with his hand, his eyes were closed.

“Why did you even go? That was stupid,” Andrew ground out and Neil’s brow furrowed– eyes still closed and his head lolled back against the bed.

“Cou’n’t not, ‘cut into Min’rds skin,’” he quoted. That made Andrew’s hands clench into fists.Neil giggled, “Min’rd’s innards,” he rhymed, then got serious, “they stay _inside._ ” 

“I hate you,” he said through gritted teeth. Neil nodded. 

“Mhmmm,” he hummed, “‘en what a‘most ‘appened yesterday?” 

“A mistake,” Andrew said, and Neil looked like he tried to rolled his eyes.

“Oof, st’pid Kevin,” he said, before passing out completely.

“Andrew–?” Renee’s voice suddenly sounded from in the hallway, and Andrew spun on her. She glanced between Neil and Andrew, “I’m sorry, you weren’t answering and I saw Riko driving away I didn’t–” Andrew raised a hand and cut her off. 

“I have to make a phone call, but I hope you brought ice packs.”  
****

He called the only person he could think of–Wymack. Well, that wasn’t totally true, he’d also thought of Aaron, who was also on his way over–but he’d called Wymack first. Andrew couldn’t stand to be in the apartment for another moment, thinking of Riko standing just outside, his slimy grin and hands all over Neil. 

It made Andrew feel shadows of fingers tickling up his legs and arms. He pointedly didn’t move to brush them away like every instinct in his body was screaming for him to do. They weren’t real. They weren’t real. 

They weren’t real. 

But he also couldn’t leave Neil alone, so he’d called Wymack, knowing he’d ask questions but not expect answers and that he could defend himself commendably. He also had a gun. 

Aaron had been called because Andrew had no idea how to medically recover from being drugged–or what drugs Riko had used and how they might affect Neil. Aaron arrived first. 

“Andrew what–?” he started as soon as Andrew opened the door. Andrew held up a hand to silence him and then made sure his face was clear of emotion. 

“Neil was drugged, we don’t know with what, just that it was given to him about an hour ago. He mentioned something about a sandwich,” Andrew explained curtly, and Aaron’s eyes widened. 

“How did–”

“If you touch him in any way that isn’t _strictly_ necessary I will cut out your kidney,” Aaron flinched back at the threat, his eyes scanning Andrew’s face. 

“Ok, I promise, I won’t,” he said seriously, and Andrew hated how much he’d come to trust his brother’s word. “Are you going to tell me what happened?” He asked, and Andrew didn’t answer him. Luckily someone else knocked on the door–so much fucking door knocking lately–and Andrew opened it to find a frazzled looking Wymack.

“What the fuck Minyard–!?” he started to snap but Andrew cut him off too, he was sick of talking. Sick of seeing people, he felt drained and restless at the same time. He needed to leave, to not be in the same room as Neil while he was sleeping and there was nothing else Andrew could do but sit and twiddle his fucking thumbs. 

“You brought your gun?” Andrew just asked bluntly, and Wymack dragged an exasperated hand down his face and threw his hands in the air, but he stepped inside and showed Andrew the gun inside his coat. 

“Yes, of course I brought the fucking gun, that’s all you said in the stupid cryptid ass text messag–”

“I need you to watch the apartment while I’m gone. I’ll be back in an hour, no one comes in or out except me or Renee–not even Kevin, and don’t tell _anyone_ about this,” he said, and Wymack narrowed his eyes. 

“What the fuck is going on Andrew?” He said, Andrew let a scowl slip through his even facade. 

“Will you will you not?” 

“Yes, of course I will, I’d just like to know what’s going,” Wymack said, and Andrew let out a slow breath. 

“Ask Neil when he wakes up,” he hissed, before turning and storming out the door. Renee was smart enough to follow him, her steps light and silent behind him. He took the stairs, unable to convince himself to stand in a box that small. They hit ground floor and Andrew beelined for his car, Renee again followed him and climbed into the passenger’s seat. She buckled her seatbelt and spared Andrew a few concerned glances but said nothing until they got to their usual gym. Andrew had picked it because it had private sparring rooms. 

He felt his muscles start to tense with anticipation as soon as he smelled the musty, sweat soaked matts and he flicked on the lights above them. Renee took her time taping up her fists and shucked her sweater and skirt so she was just in a loose tank top and athletic leggings. Andrew had his sweatpants and a t-shirt, and they both took off their shoes. Renee waited expectantly for Andrew to tape his own knuckles, and watched him knowingly as he removed each of his knives, she followed suit and left the single blade she kept on the sidelines. Then she step into the tape circle on the matts.

Andrew’s teeth gritted as he watched the smiling, god-fearing face of Renee Walker melt into something else. Something dangerous and interesting and challenging. Something that kept her knife hidden just above her ankles in the leggings. Something a lot easier to think about than Neil. 

Andrew lashed out first–a testament to his anger–it was a solid right hook. Fast, powerful, brutal, but too heavy. Renee easily side stepped it and grabbed his arm. He barely managed to twist out of her grip before she got his arm into a lock. At the same time he kicked his heel into her shin. She managed to dodge but it left her off balance with her foot pivoted too far out. He took advantage of it and landed an elbow into her abdomen as she tried to regain her footing. The elbow forced her to release him. They sprang apart, circling each other for a moment.

Both were already panting, but Andrew’s mind was completely blank except for trying to predict Renee’s next move. 

Eventually he got bored of circling. He closed their distance and feigned another right hook– this time though he let her grab his fist and twisted his hand to grab Renee’s. He pulled her arm out and landed three blows to her inner arm with his left hand. She gritted her teeth and kicked out at him– Andrew dodged the first two but then she punched her own fist and landed it right under Andrew’s jaw.

Her left swings had always been more powerful than his, and the impact rattled Andrew’s teeth. He dropped her hand and stumbled backwards– eyes unfocusing and focusing back in time to see Renee stalking toward him. He could only hold up his arms to block her flurry of hits and didn’t see the kick to his solar plexus that sent him tumbling down to the ground. 

Renee was swift to follow, and grabbed his arm, twisting it into a lock until he tapped out.

She immediately got up off of him, and moved back to the circle. Andrew pushed himself back up and waited until she turned to face him to attack again.  
****

When they finally finished both of them were covered in sheens of sweat and fighting for breath. They’d collapsed in the center of the ring, heads together and staring up at the ceiling as they caught their breath. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Renee asked quietly, shattering the comfortable silence. 

“No,” Andrew said, glad to have his body feeling as exhausted as his mind felt. 

“Ok,” she said, he waited for the rest of the preaching she no doubt would add. “But it’s ok if you’re feeling a little vulnerable, I don’t know the full situation but I know you. I can practically hear you beating yourself up almost as much as I did,” she said, he could hear the small smile on her lips. “But give yourself a little credit Andrew, if you could have done something, we all know you would have.”

_Mmmm, like track Riko down and kill him the first time he’d called Neil._

_“Cut into Minyard’s skin.”_ That’s what Neil said had been all it took to get him to bend to Riko’s will. The idea of that made Andrew’s stomach twist in knots and roll. _Stupid fucking martyr._

_Stupid. Fucking. Martyr._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT TIIIIMMEEEE: “Every inch of you, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.”


	13. Neil Figures Out What to do With His Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Descriptions of murder/ kissing/ mentions of non-con drugging/ mentions of abuse (Mary)/ Kevin being the worst cock-block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo.... yesterday wasn't wednesday.... ooooopsss. I don't really have a handle on time guys, so TODAY is the wednesday update, sorry it was late I had to finish it but I got distracted reading The Princess Bride again and ended up writing like half of an au instead of sleeping today so yeah, be on the look out for that, I'm excited. I love pretending to be William Goldman, it's the most fun I've had writing in a WHILE. 
> 
> K I'm rambling, here's this, sorry if it ends kinda choppy, and I might come through and edit it more later tonite but right now I wanna sleeppp
> 
> Thank you as always to everyone kudo-ing/ commenting you're all the lights of my life I would die for you. and @puddlejumper99 is amazing as always also

Neil had woken up with cotton mouth and the worst headache of his life. 

He kept his eyes closed and stayed still, the familiar weight of his mother next to him was missing, and every part of him was screaming something wasn’t right. The bed was also too soft, Neil couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten an actually decent bed. He tried to retrace his memories but they were coming in a jumble that made his head pound more. 

“...he didn’t tell me anything either–I have no idea,” whispering voices startled Neil the rest of the way awake, and he immediately went for the gun under the pillow–but it was missing. His movement startled the people in the room and Neil dived down behind the bed he’d been laying in to get a barrier between him. His vision was blurry and his head still felt like someone was hammering at it but his foggy memory recalled a window. 

_A window, an escape route, a window where’s the window._

“Neil! Hey, whoa, whoa calm down,” a familiar voice called. Neil turned around, swaying on his heels from where he was crouched. He squinted his eyes at the two people then furrowed his brows. 

“Wrong,” he said–he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the blond was wrong somehow. Aaron rolled his eyes. _Aaron?_ Aaron. Suddenly everything started coming back to him and he fully recognized Wymack and Aaron standing by his door. In his room. In his apartment. “Why are you here?” he demanded, standing up and trying to appear more composed then he felt. Immediately the ground spun beneath him and he collapsed back down into a crouched position, holding his head and clenching his teeth. He groaned. 

“Dumbass, lay back down,” Aaron’s rough voice said, now closer. Neil looked over, trying to force his eyes to focus as Aaron poked him until he crawled back onto the bed. “What do you remember?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and peering down at Neil. 

“Ow,” Neil said, his head fucking _hurt._

“I’ll get you advil if you tell me what you remember,” he bargained, and Neil glared. 

“ _Christ,_ I’ll get some advil,” Wymack grumbled and then disappeared from the room. 

“Isn’t bedside manner something they’re supposed to teach?” Neil managed, hating how slurred his words were sounding. Aaron clenched his jaw. 

“I’m trying to tell what kind of drugs you had, are you going to be helpfull or not?” 

“Meh.”

“Fuck you.”

“Can’t remember, my mouth tastes like an ashtray,” Neil said finally. He also wanted to know what drugs he’d apparently gotten. He couldn’t remember–oh, oh no he remembered. 

He remembered leaving Biscottea, the car ride with Jean, and then the lunch place with Riko. _I’ll cut it into Minyards skin._

“Andrew,” he tried to ask, but his tongue wasn’t working right. He scowled at it. “ _Where’s_ Andrew?”

“I don’t know, out,” Aaron said, and Neil scowled. 

“How long have I been out?” he pressed, already trying to get back out of bed to find his phone. He needed to know where Andrew was. Aaron blocked him though and went back to poking Neil until he stopped trying to get up. Neil scowled at him, but he just scowled back. Neil knew Andrew could take care of himself but Neil couldn’t remember what had happened or even how he’d managed to get back to the apartment. For all he knew Riko had grabbed Andrew while Neil was drugged. 

“A day. It’s Thursday, a little after noon,” Aaron said. The bedroom door opened again and Wymack appeared, trying to squeeze through a crack with a glass of water and a pill bottle in his hands. King was yowling angrily from outside the door and Wymack was cursing at her. Eventually he gave up and she jumped past him and climbed up onto the bed with Neil. He tried not to laugh at Wymack’s shredded pant leg. 

“ _Fucking demon,_ ” he growled. King butted her head against Neil and purred loudly. He petted her ears and relaxed a little more. 

“Where’s Andrew,” he asked again, Aaron looked like he was just going to glare in silence and Neil glared back until Wymack sighed exasperatedly and answered.

“Out, he left this morning, dunno where. Said he’d be back in a couple of hours,” Wymack said, and then he took a step closer to the bed. Neil tensed and King hissed from where she was sitting in Neil’s lap. “You want to explain what’s happening at all?” Wymack asked, he handed Neil the pills and water and Neil debated taking them for a moment. King sniffed them suspiciously but apparently deemed them ok and went back to sitting on Neil’s lap with her tail flicking. “I didn’t drug those I promise,” Wymack said to his hesitation, and Neil sighed. He’d honestly rather drug induced unconsiousness than this headache–he took the pills and downed all the water before he spoke.

“I can’t remember what happened,” Neil half lied. He remembered _who_ drugged him, he just couldn’t remember anything after he’d gotten ordered to choke down Riko’s sandwich. He also wasn’t going to tell a police chief that he’d been drugged by a known affiliate of the Yakuza. That seemed like a bad idea. 

“So probably a roofie, did you feel uh–” Aaron paused and glanced down at his phone, “‘ _confusion, problems seeing_ ’?” he read, and Neil scowled at him. 

“Yes and yes–aren’t you supposed to be a medical genius?” he said and Aaron scowled at him.

“I’m studying neurological surgery not date rape drugs you dumbass.” he reached out and grabbed Neil’s wrist to check his pulse, King hissed at him, swatting his hand away and Aaron scowled. 

“Figures that your stupid cat would be as much of an asshole as you are,” he griped, and Neil grinned.

“She’s Andrew’s cat, not mine,” he said, Aaron muttered something about that making even more sense. Which Neil didn’t get, so he assumed he’d heard it wrong.

Aaron tried to grab Neil’s wrist again and King almost bit him that time. Neil did laugh at that. 

“Fine, whatever, it’s probably a roofie. _Rohypnol._ ” Aaron said, “Say rubber baby buggy bumpers five times.”

Neil couldn’t even manage it once. Aaron just nodded and consulted his phone again. 

“Do you feel hungover?”

“God yes.”

“Tap every other finger to your thumb on both hands.”

Neil couldn’t.

“No distortions or false perceptions of time?”

“Uh, no?”

“Are you seeing things?”

“Aside from your ugly mug?”

“I hope you die.”

“You first.”

“Ok cut it out, so it’s probably a roofie?” Wymack snapped, and Aaron and Neil stopped bickering. Aaron nodded.

“That or GHB, are you having trouble breathing?” Aaron asked, and Neil took a breath. King purred.

“No?” he said, and Aaron nodded.

“It says Ketamine would been more psychedelic, and GHB causes difficulty breathing and would have worn off faster.” he explained. 

“How exactly did you come in contact with date rape drugs?” Wymack probed, and Neil leaned back, making his face go flat and kept his eyes on Wymack’s hairline. 

“Clubbing,” he said, Wymack sighed. 

“Kid–”

“I’m _fine,_ and I’m not going to talk about it anymore.” Neil interrupted, he dragged a hand through his hair and took another deep breath. King purred again and Neil realized she was purring every time he took a full breath. It felt nice so he started taking longer breaths. 

“Of course, whatever, I’m leaving. Google says drink water and sleep, so do that. Don’t die or Andrew will kill me,” Aaron said, turning and leaving. Wymack remained in the room, he was watching Neil carefully.

“You don’t have to stay,” Neil said, hoping he would also leave. He’d come to trust Wymack, but it was still unnerving to have an older man in an enclosed space while Neil didn’t have much motor-skill capacity. 

“Actually I do, I’m on babysitting duty and I think if I left you alone Andrew would kill us both,” he remarked, but he got up anyways. “I’ll be in the living room, don’t move,” he warned and Neil rolled his eyes. 

After Wymack left Neil tightened his hands where they were buried in Kings fur. She hissed a warning and he forced his grip to loosen. He could already hear the speech he was going to get when he saw Andrew next. 

Well, not speech he’d probably just say _‘idiot.’_

For a moment that sparked a memory, and Neil struggled to grasp it, but all he could get was a hazy image of Andrew scowling over him. _‘Idiot.’_  
****

The next time Neil startled awake King was kneading his arm. When she noticed he was awake she jumped off the bed and started yowling at the door. Neil rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw as he got up to let her out. 

Thankfully the advil had kicked in, so his head was soothed to a dull throbbing. He swallowed a few more pills before going to the door–smacking his lips at the gross, half-dry feeling in his mouth. King meowed again and he sighed. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming,” he grumbled, twisting the doorknob. As soon as the door was open she sped out and started batting playfully at Andrew’s shoes. Neil jumped as he realized Andrew was standing there and then blinked. Andrew had his arm out like he was about to open the door–probably to get King to shut up. He pulled his hand back and crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall next to his bedroom door. 

“Oh, uh… hey,” Neil said awkwardly. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say. 

“Should you be up?” Andrew asked, face blank as usual. Neil rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine, just a headache,” he said, and Andrew sighed. 

“Aaron said you can’t remember anything,” he said. It didn’t sound like a question but Neil knew it was one. _Were you being honest or were you covering your tracks?_

“I don’t–not really, uh… Jean picked me up, I went to some lunch place and Riko was there. I didn’t realize anything until after I ate the sandwich,” he paused, racking his brain. The rest just felt like a dizzy blur. He narrowed his eyes, “Did you punch a wall?” he asked, remembering feeling it shake from where he was leaning against it. 

“Not intentionally,” Andrew said, and Neil made a face.

“What does that mean?” 

“I just retaught Riko a lesson,” he said vaguely, and Neil blinked. 

“He was _here?_ ” He asked, trying to swallow the panic crawling up his throat. Andrew flicked his forehead. 

“And I took care of it,” he said, Neil glared.

“Andrew he–”

“–threatened me, yeah, you mentioned that.”

“Then you should understand why it’s not that great that he knows where we _live._ Where _you_ live.” 

“I told you I handled it,” Andrew said, frustration creeping into his eyes and Neil dragged a hand through his hair. 

“By doing what? Pissing him off more? Making yourself a more enticing target?” He prodded, annoyance lacing his voice. 

“It’ll get him off your back,” Andrew said unapologetically, and Neil ground his teeth. 

“That’s not what I want.” he spit out, and Andrew shrugged. 

“You should have been more specific in our deal. This way he’s easier to deal with.” 

“I thought you hated martyrs.” 

“I’m very self deprecating.” 

Neil growled in frustration.

“You are _impossible,_ ” he grit out, moving out of the room and down the hall. He needed to clear his head. 

“Where are you going?” Andrew asked, following him down the hall and watching with a bored expression as Neil angrily stepped into his shoes and grabbed his jacket. “You definitely aren’t going for a run,” he added, and Neil realized he was probably right. That just pissed him off more so he grabbed his keys.

“I’m not, I’m going to go stakeout my next victim, _murder_ victim, because I do that Andrew. I _kill_ people– regularly!” he snapped, and Andrew raised a brow.

“Is this a cry for help?” he asked dryly. Neil scowled at him and opened the door. 

“I’m not defenseless and you aren’t expendable so stop acting like it,” Neil said, and then he slammed the door behind him and stormed down the hall. After a second the door opened again.

“Neil,” Andrew called down the hall, and Neil turned around, still fuming. “You forgot your phone,” Andrew growled, tossing the phone at Neil, who caught in and threw it back at him. He just closed the door though and the phone bounced off. Neil dragged a hand through his hair and muffled a scream with his clenched jaw. He walked over and grabbed it off the ground. 

“Eat _shit_ you dick!” Neil yelled through the door. It didn’t open again, but one from down the hall did and Neil glared at the woman who poked her head out. She scowled at him. 

“Can you not?” she asked, and Neil flipped her off and took the stairs. By the time he reached the bottom he was lightheaded from anger–or possible still hungover from the drugs. He almost thought about hijacking Andrew’s car, just to piss him off, but he decided it would be too obvious to do surveillance in anyways and stuffed himself in his own car. 

He just drove for a while, lost in angry thought until he remembered he had a destination. 

It took him longer than he meant to but finally he pulled up to Jackson Plank’s ‘work.’ Some bar he came and cleaned at night so he would look less suspicious. Neil caught him right as he was leaving, and tailed him back to his apartment. 

This was the most boring part of it all, the watching. It was necessary, so that Neil could find the perfect moment to strike, but that didn’t make it fun. In almost all of Andrew’s crime shows stakeouts were exciting and always produced interesting results, but for Neil they usually entailed him watching some older guy masterbate for an hour and then drink until he passed out. 

Jackson Plank wasn’t even _that_ interesting, and he had all his windows covered with curtains so Neil couldn’t even use his binoculars. He was glad, he didn’t want to have to look at the man anymore than he had to–which was already too much. 

While he wasn’t one of Nathan’s inner circle he was Lola’s favorite lackie. Neil had been debating killing him for that exact reason; there was the chance Lola would get curious and start digging around and that could get dangerous. And there was the fact that Plank was six foot four and weighed about as much as an anvil. Luckily he also shared brains with one so Neil was confident he could outsmart him. 

It still felt like a risk though. But there was also the tempting idea that if Plank was dead it was one less shitbag Lola could throw at him. _And_ the idea of pissing off Lola by killing her favorite pet was equally enticing. 

But if Plank managed to get ahold of him at all… or recognized him… 

Neil wondered vaguely if he should ask Andrew’s advice. Then he remembered it would probably just end up being something like _“Do whatever you want, it’s going to be idiotic anyways.”_

The more Neil thought about Andrew the more pissed off he got, so he changed the subject in his own head, instead focusing on trying to recover this missing chunk in his memories from the day before. 

He remembered recognizing the chalky mystery substance in his sandwich, and then stubbornly eating all of it. He regretted that now. If he strained he could picture a car ride, Riko being too close, his hand too tight on Neil’s arm. Then being suddenly inside his apartment, something slamming against the wall outside. 

_“A mistake.”_

A _mistake?_

Neil tried not to feel a little hurt. That just made him more annoyed though. He scowled at the dashboard and then remembered he was supposed to be watching Plank, he looked up and realized the man’s car was gone.

Fuck. 

“Oh _fuck_ this,” he growled and started up his car so he could drive back to the apartment. Back to his apartment. Why was _he_ the one storming out anyways? 

By the time Neil got back he was all worked up again, and he stomped up the stairs and then had to pause–pretty anticlimactically–to catch his breath at the top. Fucking stairs, fucking drugs, fucking _Riko, fucking Andrew._

He threw open the door, and was a little disappointed but unsurprised when Andrew didn’t even glance at him from where he was sitting on the couch. King looked unimpressed with his sudden entrance and she flicked her tail to show it. 

“A _mistake?_ ” Neil asked shrilly. Andrew’s eyes slid over to him, he didn’t pause the tv though. King meowed her annoyance and then disappeared–probably into Neil’s room, to get cat hair all over his clothes.

“Well look at that, miracles do happen,” Andrew remarked, it made Neil want to stab him. 

“Give me a real answer.” he demanded, and Andrew raised a brow, “I’ll take a turn if I need to just stop being so fucking cryptic,” he added. Andrew watched Neil for a moment, and Neil held his stare. Too stubborn to drop it. 

“I was going to kiss you,” Andrew said. Even though Neil had asked for bluntness somehow, he realized, he hadn’t been expecting it. He blinked. 

“But you hate me?” he said slowly, and Andrew shrugged. 

“Every inch of you, doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you,” Neil froze. Blinked again. And just stared, dumbfounded. Andrew watched him for a moment and then apparently got bored and went back to the tv. 

After an embarrassing amount of time Neil picked his jaw up off the floor. His cheeks were burning and he couldn’t quite remember what a functioning sentence sounded like. 

“Why haven’t you _done_ anything?” he asked finally, exasperation hanging on every word. Andrew turned back towards him and paused the tv. 

“I’ve been flirting with you since I moved in,” he said, and Neil opened his mouth to say something. Closed it, opened it again, and shut it again. He settled on dragging a hand through his hair. “What, did you want me to spell it out for you?” he asked, annoyance creeping in and Neil threw up his hands.

“ _Yes!_ I’m stupid!” he said, and Andrew’s face changed suddenly, and then he stood up and moved until he was standing in front of Neil. 

“Yes or no, Neil.”

“Yes.” Andrew crowded Neil the rest of the way against the wall and suddenly his lips were on Neil’s. It set the world on fire. 

To say it was nothing like Neil’s other kisses wouldn’t be completely true. It was sloppy, a little awkward, but that warm feeling spreading through Neil was new. Neil also couldn’t keep his eyes open and he _definitely_ wasn’t bored. He still wasn’t sure where to put his hands though. 

Andrew apparently had it figured out, his trailed down Neil’s torso as they kissed–stirring up involuntary shivers from Neil–and finally stopped at his hips, keeping him pinned to the wall. Andrew caught Neil’s lower lip between his teeth and Neil gasped. His hands reached up without him thinking, but he stopped before he touched Andrew–something in the very back of his mind keeping him in check. 

Andrew responded by taking his wrists and pinning them above his head. Well that was something to do with them. 

Neil curled his hands into fists and arched his back as Andrew’s tongue worked its way into his mouth. 

Time slipped through his fingers and he had no idea how much time had passed when Andrew suddenly pulled away. Neil groaned and leaned forward to chase after him, and then he froze at the sound of someone knocking on the door. 

Both Neil and Andrew were out of breath and Neil felt like he’d just run a marathon. He almost fell over when Andrew’s support suddenly disappeared and he had to use the wall to stabilize himself. The door knocking got more insistant and Neil groaned again–this time in frustration. 

“If that’s Kevin I swear to _god–_ ”

“I can hear you! Let me in!” Kevin’s pissy voice called through the door and Neil glared at Andrew’s half smirk. Before Neil could say anything else–like _‘give me a minute I still can’t remember how lungs work,’_ – Andrew opened the door. Kevin rushed in, basically ignoring them both and beelining for the kitchen. 

Neil tried to regulate his breathing, and followed Andrew and Kevin into the kitchen, he opened up the freezer to grab ice cream as an excuse to stick his head in for a second. When he turned back around Andrew looked the picture of composure, and Neil scowled at him for it as he struggled to get his fingers to work enough to tear the seal on the ice cream. 

“It’s Riko,” Kevin said, drawing Neil’s attention. 

“What is?” Neil asked, and Kevin scowled in annoyance–probably mad Neil hadn’t read his mind. 

“He’s the mystery killer, there was a witn–Neil since when do you eat ice cream?” Kevin asked, and Neil decided when his fucking hands were functioning he was going to kill Kevin. 

“Since today,” he growled, ignoring the smug look Andrew shot him. Kevin gave him a disapproving look.

“Each of those pints has to have–”

“Kevin, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up.” Neil said, tossing in a tight lipped smile. He finally got a grip on the plastic and ripped it open. _Oh, looks like his fingers were functioning._ He thought bitterly. Kevin sneered at him but luckily–for him–he dropped the subject. “Well, as I was saying, Wymack has a witness. Someone saw Kenya Rickends getting in a car with a–” Kevin cut himself off and hurriedly dug around through his piles of notes. His broken hand was tucked in close to his chest, and Neil saw there was something written on it. 

He pretended he didn’t notice and instead fished a spoon out of the drawer and started eating the ice cream. The chill was a shock to his system but a welcome one. Andrew eventually got bored of just watching Kevin dig through his piles of crazy. 

“Hand, Kevin,” he prompted, and Kevin looked down at it and spotted the note. He moved on like nothing had happened. 

“‘–a shorter, asian looking man with a tattoo on his cheek,’” Kevin quoted. 

“Sounds familiar,” Neil said, and Kevin nodded seriously, obviously missing the sarcasm in Neil’s statement. Kevin copied the witness’ quote down on a sticky note and tacked it up next to the note that just had “????” written on it. 

“I think we should start by talking with the witness, Wymack gave me her name and we can track down her address,” he started rambling, rubbing his chin and looking around the kitchen–probably for a phone book. 

“Yes, let’s–a bunch of weird strangers–go visit the nice lady,” Andrew said, he was sitting at the table with his feet up, leaning so far back in the chair it was balancing on the two back legs. Neil’s gut lurched every time he rocked. 

“We can bring Wymack,” Kevin said, and Andrew gave him a dry look. 

“Ok, but say we do this, won’t it just draw Riko’s attention to her? Right now she might be in the clear but as soon as we go to question her Riko will start getting suspicious,” Neil argued, and Kevin frowned. “And, doesn’t this seem a little fishy? Why would Riko be the one to grab Kenya?”

“I don’t know–fun?” Kevin guessed, his hand started twitching and he scowled at it until it stilled. “And it’s not like he’s not watching our every move,” he added, and Neil almost laughed.

“Let’s just assume he is.” Andrew said, and Kevin’s eyes widened slightly and they darted between Andrew and Neil. 

“What did you two do?” he demanded, and Andrew and Neil rolled their eyes together. 

“Nothing!” Neil snapped.

“Really?” Andrew said, Neil glared and threw his spoon, Andrew caught it and went back to talking with Kevin like nothing had happened. 

“Can you two stop bickering for two seconds?” Kevin scowled, and Neil turned his glare on him. “And seriously, how do you know Riko’s watching you?” 

“Well, he did just roofie Neil yesterday,” Andrew said, patronizingly. Kevin blinked and then whirled around on Neil. 

“ _What,_ ” he snapped, and Neil waved him off.

“I’m fine, it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened,” he said. That particular memory was much more uncomfortable than this one. At least this time Neil had a warm bed to ride the high in and not the footwell of a car. 

“You mentioned that last night, when have you been roofied?” Andrew asked, and Neil winced as he imagined all the things he could have spilled last night. “And Texas?” 

“Mom was trying to prove a point, I don’t know why I said Texas, it happened in Tallahassee,” Neil said, and Andrew and Kevin both furrowed their brows.

“Your _mother_ roofied you?” Kevin asked incredulously, and Neil shrugged again. 

“I was being stupid, so she proved a point,” he said again. He didn’t get what the big deal was. 

He and his mother had just made it out of Jacksonville, his mother sure they had Nathan’s lackies hot on their heels. Neil had probably been about twelve, two years on the run and already more flighty and survival hardwired than anyone should be. But he hadn’t managed to get rid of the tiny bit of trust he didn’t realize he had, so when he accepted a water bottle from one of the truck drivers they’d been hitchhiking with he hadn’t thought about it. 

Mary had apparently, he could remember her tearing the bottle out of his hands and tossing it in the garbage before he could take a sip for his parched throat. He could feel her hands in his hair–sure they were going to tear it out–and her voice in his ear. _Don’t trust anyone. Don’t._

He’d thought that was the end of it, but the next time they stopped Mary offered him another water bottle. He’d guzzled it–they’d been running non-stop since Jacksonville and Neil hadn’t had water in at least a day. He hadn’t felt the effects until they got back in a car. The last thing from that experience he remembered was Mary reaffirming her earlier point in his ear. _Trust no one. No one._

“She roofied her son to prove a point,” Andrew said slowly, eyes narrowed. 

“I didn’t take things from strangers after that,” Neil said. He shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious. “She did what she had to,” he said, spitting back up the excuse Mary had used when he’d come back to. _This is survival or death Abram. That water bottle could be the difference, and I didn’t keep you alive this long to let us die from your idiocy._

“No, sounds like she made shitty decisions and made excuses, Kevin also doesn’t take things from strangers, and he learned it just as effectively sans the creepy drugging.” Andrew said, and Neil’s jaw clenched. 

“It’s different,” he said stubbornly, and Andrew held his glare. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Whatever, I’m not doing this right now,” he snapped, turning pointedly away and looking at the wall. He dragged a hand through his hair and clenched his fist in it for a moment. 

“Neil’s right, we have to decide how we’re going to talk with the witness,” Kevin said, and for once Neil was grateful for his single mindedness. 

“I thought we decided we weren’t,” Andrew said, shooting Neil a look that clearly meant _this conversation isn’t over._ Neil ignored him.

“We _have_ to,” Kevin said, “If we can convince her to testify it could be damning,” he added. 

“Then have Wymack bring her to the station,” Andrew said. 

“Why do we even want her to testify, and against what?” Neil asked, Kevin looked at him like he was stupid.

“If we can pin the murder on Riko, we could land him in jail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh ho hoooo. 
> 
> NEXT TIME: "What are you volunteering me for to prove a point?"


	14. Andrew Doesn't Like Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We hate Riko! He's gross! Nasty! A fiend! Burn him! In this chapter really no one but King is ok for the whole thing. I'm sorrryyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of rape (Andrew's backstory)/ nightmares/ panic attacks/ Riko is a bitch ass hoe and we hate him

“I’m bringing Katelyn this weekend,” Aaron said. He’d called to remind Andrew that Nicky was coming down that weekend. 

Because Andrew was the one who needed to be reminded. 

“I don’t care, Neil will be there too,” Andrew said, and Aaron coughed like he was choking on something. Neil gave Andrew a quizzical look from where he was digging through the fridge for lunch, Andrew ignored them both. 

“You’re bringing _Neil?_ ” Aaron said.

“Well, this is his apartment Aaron, it’d be a little difficult to avoid,” he said condescendingly. He could hear Aaron’s glare through the phone. 

“Dumbass we’re going down to Columbia instead, don’t you check your phone? Nicky’s been blowing mine up about it,” he said, and Andrew raised a brow. 

“Nicky’s blocked on my phone,” Andrew deadpanned, and Aaron laughed. Nicky had been texting Andrew non-stop about Neil and his visit and so Andrew had blocked him, not wanting to have Nicky use up all his minutes. 

“Well, we’re meeting him in the house down there on Saturday, he wants us to have some big cookout thing Sunday,” Aaron said, Andrew sighed. “Neil isn’t vegetarian is he? Nicky will freak out if he doesn’t make it perfect for his first meeting with your boyfriend,” Aaron added, Andrew glared.

“He’s not–” Andrew looked up to where Neil was standing, still within earshot, “–vegetarian,” he caught himself, and Aaron laughed over the phone. 

“Smooth, is he standing right there?” 

“Do you want to be blocked too?”

“You two are like a match made in heaven, Nicky won’t be able to shut up about it,” Aaron said, which Andrew knew was the unfortunate case. He hadn’t seen his cousin in two years, since Andrew and Aaron had both gone up to Germany for Nicky’s wedding–that had ended in a very drunken night after an awkward lap-dance. Well, the lap-dance wasn’t that awkward, turns out Eric isn’t a bad dancer, but any sentence that includes the words ‘lap-dance’ and ‘cousin’ along with ‘I watched’ is immediately grounds for intoxication. 

After that though none of them had the money for the travel, so it had been limited to jumpy Skype chats and phone calls that made Andrew just a bit glad his cousin was miles away from him. “Uh, oh, and we’re going to Eden’s, do you think Roland still works there?” Aaron said, and Andrew hung up on him. He didn’t feel like thinking about Roland right now. Bee would probably tell him something about avoiding the unavoidable, but he shut her out too. 

“What are you volunteering me for to prove a point?” Neil asked, he’d pulled out eggs from the fridge and was in the process of burning them on the stove. Andrew didn’t think he’d ever seen him adjust the burner aside from to turn it on high. 

“The Fourth, Nicky wants us to go to Columbia instead of staying here,” Andrew said, and Neil furrowed his brow and sprinkled salt into the popping egg. 

“Why Columbia?”

“We have a house there.”

“You have a _house?_ ” Neil said, waving his spatula around. “And you pay rent for _this?_ ” 

“Too long of a commute,” Andrew said with a shrug.

“It’s not like you drive the speed limit anyways,” Neil muttered, before crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “It’s noon, have you eaten anything?” His eggs were burning in their pan, Andrew could smell it, he didn’t know why Neil apparently didn’t notice. 

“Your eggs are burning,” Andrew said instead of answering, and he stood up to go into his room but Neil blocked him. 

“Not an answer,” he said, with a dumb smile on his face. 

“Your nagging is not appealing,” Andrew said, reaching around him to turn off the egg pan–which had started smoking. “Or your lack of cooking skills,” he added, setting his hand on the counter behind Neil, boxing him in. Neil smirked. “Though it does lead to the likelihood of…” Andrew paused, then glanced up to the smoke alarm right as it started shrieking–causing Neil to jump and King to start yowling. “...ruining the moment,” Andrew finished with a deadpan tone, and he walked down the hall to his room. 

Neil was swearing as he tried to turn it off. “You’re not very appealing yourself!” he yelled, and Andrew gave him a two fingered salute.

“Not what you said last night,” he smirked, and Neil turned beet red. 

“You–I– _you–_ ” he started, angrily pointing the spatula at Andrew. He paused for a moment, before giving up and turning back to the pan. Andrew smirked again and disappeared into his room. He sat down in the armchair he’d stolen from the living room and opened the book Renee had given him to the spot he’d last stopped at. 

He tuned Neil’s growling curses out and the fire alarm and Andrew focused on the pages.  
*****

He should have seen this coming. 

Bee probably would have warned him if he’d actually told her any of what was happening. Something about the combination of stress and lack of sleep. Nicotine not helping, blah blah blah. 

None of the explanations or evaluation really prepare you for waking up with hands all over you and pressure on your chest. 

Andrew was out of bed before his eyes even opened, vaguely he realized he wasn’t even in a bed–he’d fallen asleep in the chair–but it didn’t matter. His knife was out and he back himself up until he had a wall to lean against. His breathing was coming in short, barely satisfying puffs and he felt tacky with cold sweat. 

His eyes darted around the room as his mind caught up with himself–as he slid out of the dream and into reality. Shadows jumped in the corners of his eyes and he could hear the creak of a door every time he look away. His pulse was pounding in his ears and it sounded like footsteps, echoing all around him.

He clenched his fist around the knife and took a breath, then another, and forced himself to relax–to straighten and stop leaning against the wall. He closed his eyes–even though it made his skin crawl–and breathed. 

There was a hand on his arm. Fingers running down his shoulder. Tight around his ankle. A fist in his back. Two around his neck, cutting off air and more everywhere. On him. _On him._

Andrew clenched his fists and forced himself to keep breathing. 

When he opened his eyes again there was no one in the room. No footsteps outside, no door creaking open, no shadows moving to his bed. He rolled out his wrists without thinking and then left the room, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get anymore sleep after that.

He tossed his knife down on the counter in the kitchen and got a cup for water down from the cabinet. His fingers itched for a cigarette but he could hear Bee’s nagging somewhere in the back of his head, next to his jackrabbiting pulse. 

_Associating drugs with calm is never a good thing Andrew, try sweets, or water, or something less detrimental to your health than nicotine._

He didn’t need the cigarette, he didn’t _need_ anything. 

_Ah, ah, ah._ He caught himself, _you’re sounding dangerously like a troubled highschooler._

He ran through the list of things he and Bee had made. _Water, food, exercise, stimulation._ Those were things Andrew _needed._ They were necessary to human life, everyone needed them. _Not to feel gross._ That was something Andrew _wanted,_ not needed. His shirt was stuck to his skin with sweat and it made his skin itch. But the idea of showering–even behind a locked door–was worse.

So instead Andrew forgot about the water glass and sat down on the couch. He thought about turning on the tv, but he suddenly didn’t have the energy to look for the remote. So instead he just sat and stared at the floor in front of him. The next time he zoned back in King was yowling from in Neil’s room. 

He listened as he heard Neil groan and get out of bed, grumbling to the cat, and then the door opened. The sound made Andrew tensed and he forced himself to relax again, and to keep his head forward. 

_Just Neil. No one else. Just Neil. No one else._

“Do you want to go outside? What do you want?” Neil was saying exasperatedly as he walked down the hallways after King, who was still meowing–Andrew heard her jump up on the couch, but she stopped just before touching Andrew. Neil pulled up short. “Andrew?” he said, still sounding groggy, Andrew didn’t feel like speaking, so he didn’t. “Hey, Andrew, you ok?” Neil asked, walking around until he was in front of Andrew, who didn’t even bother to raise his eyes. 

He was proving a point to himself. He didn’t need to. He didn’t need to check behind him and each of the doors and whether or not there was a wall behind him. It didn’t matter. He was safe. He was fine. _Stop acting like this._

“Andrew, are you awake?” Neil asked, now completely awake and crouched down in front of Andrew, carefully just outside the spot Andrew was staring at. It took Andrew a long time but eventually he nodded. He didn’t have the energy for much else. Neil nodded too. “I’m going to sit on the couch, King’s sitting on the remote so she might scream a little,” he said carefully, Andrew didn’t react and so Neil took that as acceptance. He sank down on the opposite side of the couch, leaving room for Andrew. King did hiss at him for stealing the remote from under her but he ignored it. 

“Any preferences? Because otherwise I’m turning on exy,” he said, voice going back to being casual, Andrew still didn’t respond. His mouth felt dry, he regretted not drinking the water earlier, but his limbs felt like sandbags. “Want me to keep talking?” Neil asked, and Andrew thought for a long moment before nodded slowly. It was easier to focus on Neil’s rambling than it was to keep circling around in his own head. 

_No one’s there. Stop acting like this. No one’s there. Stop acting like this. No one’s there._

“Being friends with Kevin probably means you know who this is, Dan tells me he won’t shut up about them if anyone even _mentions_ the Trojans. She thinks it has something to do with the whole Trojan Horse reference since he’s such a history nut. Matt thinks he’s just crushing on their captain, Jeremy Knox. They’ve got a bet going on it,” Neil said, “Apparently the Trojan’s have the reputation of being the most sportsmanlike team in the league.” Neil said it like he was trying to be nonchalant about it. Vaguely Andrew thought that Kevin should take notes, he probably wouldn’t be able to be casual about his own knowledge if his life depended on it. 

“You know, I can almost see it–why Kevin has a thing for Knox, he’s a good player.” Neil mused, which almost made Andrew roll his eyes. “I was telling Matt earlier about how you brought Marshall back from the dead, and then about how your cats name is King Fluffikins, now he feels the _dire_ need to meet you,” Neil said dramatically, this time Andrew did roll his eyes. 

“Did Aaron tell you she tried to bite off his hand for checking my pulse?” he asked, looking over at Andrew with a half smile on his face. 

“In his story it was his face,” Andrew said, it felt like he had to drag the words up through himself, but the feeling in his chest lessened. Neil laughed and looked back at the tv, Andrew looked over at it for the first time.

It was playing some dumb highlights reel from a Trojans game. Jeremy Knox was making a goal in slow-motion as some commentator gushed about his technique. The lights were still off in the room, so the only light was the orange-y glow of the oven light and the tv. Andrew sighed and stole the remote from Neil, changing the channel to some other–barely less dumb–Discovery Channel show. Neil scoffed. 

“I was watching that,” he whined, and King whined with him. Andrew ignored them both. “Ice cream?” Neil asked suddenly, and Andrew turned to him and narrowed his eyes, but he nodded. What he really wanted was hot chocolate, but he didn’t think they had any in the apartment. _Wanted. Look Bee I do want._

Neil cleared his throat and then tossed Andrew the tub of ice cream and a spoon, then he started digging in to his own tub as he came and sat back down. After about three scoops though he grimaced. 

“I don’t know how you manage to eat so much of this stuff, my teeth feel soft after like two bites,” he remarked, putting the lid back on his tub and sticking it in the freezer.

“It’s because you have no taste,” he said, and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“You’re the one who passed up exy for–what is this? Shark Week?” he said, gesturing to the tv. Andrew glanced at it. Apparently he’d stopped on one of the Planet Earth documentaries, hammerhead sharks were swimming over the screen as some british guy narrated it. “‘ _Some of the most terrifying creatures in the world,_ ’ yeah, _totally,_ ” Neil mocked, in a surprisingly decent British accent. Andrew raised a brow. 

“Mom and I were leaving Costa Rica, we took a boat going to Jurádo and then we were going to hike back across the border to throw off our trail. But she was sure someone was on the boat, so she made us jump off before we got there…” he slowed off like he was thinking, “There were sharks _everywhere,_ we were lucky we didn’t have any fresh injuries–” then he laughed, “We also didn’t take boats after that,” he added. Andrew already didn’t like Neil’s mother, but he added this to a list of reasons why. Neil suddenly looked up at Andrew.

“Do you want to talk?” _about me finding you on the couch at four am nearly unresponsive and smelling like a goat._

“No.”

“Is there someone you want me to call?” 

Bee popped into Andrew’s head without him wanting it to, and then Wymack. But if he called Bee she would know he was keeping something from her, and then she would start nagging. Wymack would just look pitying. Andrew didn’t need that right now so he just shook his head. So Neil shrugged and came back around to sit on the couch.

“Want me to leave?” He asked, and Andrew shrugged after moment. He didn’t care one way or another. Neil nodded and sat down, watching the tv. Andrew watched him for a moment. 

He couldn’t help but compare this to every other time this had happened. Most of them involved him, alone, behind a closed door that didn’t lock securely enough, just trying to figure out how to breath again. Later it became trying to keep his breathing so that he didn’t wake Nicky or Aaron up, anytime they saw him unstable it made them panicky, which never helped. Then now, sitting on the couch watching some documentary while Neil acted like basically nothing was happening. 

Andrew stood up after a moment, and Neil raised a brow, Andrew didn’t say anything but he knew Neil’s eyes tracked him to his room. Andrew grabbed a change of clothes and went to get a shower. He still reeked from fear sweat and felt sticky and gross. 

He checked the lock on the door four times. But after a shower he felt better, so he sat down on the closed toilet seat and texted Bee’s number. He still didn’t feel like talking but he had promised her he would let her know when this shit happened. It only took her a few seconds to respond.

AM  
_Four am_

BD  
_Nightmares?_

Andrew didn’t respond, she would know what that meant. They texted for a while, until Andrew’s skin stopped tingling, and then Bee told him to go eat something. Neil was still curled up on the couch, but he’d passed back out. King was curled up in his lap, her tail twitching irritably as she tracked Andrew’s movement through the kitchen.

Andrew ignored them both, and if he moved a bit slower so he didn’t wake Neil back up, no one noticed.  
*****

Neil didn’t wake up again for a couple more hours, until his phone went off.

He jumped awake and snatched it out of his pocket, checked the screen and then scowled. The phone went off again, and again, each time only alerting a text, and then the phone rang. 

“Fuck,” Neil hissed as he hung up the phone and got up like he was going to leave. Andrew was leaning against the counter, watching him. He had a cup of coffee by his elbow and he was munching on a leaf of lettuce because Bee had told him to eat a salad but he didn’t have the energy to make one. And they apparently didn’t have any vegetables in the apartment besides lettuce. 

“Who's calling?” Andrew asked, and Neil jumped again and then actually hid the phone behind his back. It rang again and Andrew raised a brow. 

“No one,” Neil said, unconvincingly.

“Let me see your phone then,” Andrew said, holding out a hand. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew who it was. Neil blinked, and then threw the phone out the window. Or tried to, but he missed the open part so it just bounced off the glass and landed on the floor–still ringing. Andrew raised both brows. Neil winced as it had bounced and skittered across the floor until it landed by Andrew’s feet. 

Andrew reached down and picked up the phone, there was an unknown number calling, he glanced back up to Neil. 

“I was going to–” Andrew ignored him and picked up the call. 

“If you know what’s good for you, pick up the phone when I call, _Nathaniel._ ” A glaringly familiar voice hissed. Andrew sighed. 

“Last time I checked, this is Neil’s number? You might want to retype in whichever one you got,” Andrew remarked, and Riko went silent on the other end. 

“So now you’re a secretary?” he growled, Andrew rubbed his temple, it was too early for this. 

“Is that the best insult you could come up with?” he said, Riko was silent on the other end again. Andrew suspected he was covering the mic. “So I’m realizing now that the deal I made last time wasn’t specific enough for you, so let’s make a new deal.” 

“I will not bargain with a–”

“Shhh, shhh, there’s someone with actual thoughts speaking–so Riko, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to give you this one warning, that if you try to contact–in person or not–what is _mine_ again, you won’t live much longer.” Andrew said smoothly, he didn’t have the energy to keep up the drugged facade, so instead he just said the words with a deadpan tone.

“He belongs to _me,_ ” Riko said, deadly quiet. Though after the temper tantrums Andrew had seen Riko through it was hard to see him as intimidating. He was just a baby with a hand grenade–and a decent aim.

“ _Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine,_ ” Andrew said, mimicking those stupid seagulls from Finding Nemo that make Nicky cry. “You sound ridiculous,” he added, Riko growled over the phone, but it just sounded like crackling static. 

“You’ll regret thi–” Andrew hung up on him, then he tucked the phone in his pocket and looked back up to Neil–the other child apparently–who was pouting. His arms were crossed and his brow was furrowed.

“ _That_ is why I didn’t tell you he was calling,” he growled, Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“What, me handling the situation?” 

“We already had this argument, and I already told you that if you’re just going to piss him off until he comes after just you and call that ‘protection’ then I don’t fucking want it,” Neil hissed, and Andrew scowled at him. “He will _kill_ you Andrew, did you not see the Rickends body?”

“Well I’m not just going to let him get away with whatever he wants, I made a promise, I’ll keep it,” Andrew said unapologetically. Neil growled and tore a hand through his hair. Then he stormed over to the door, probably to go for a run. _Fine, run rabbit run._

“Wait, no, why am _I_ leaving? Fuck you! You leave! This is _my_ apartment,” Neil said suddenly, and Andrew sighed but walked over to the door. Neil was standing next to it, milking every one inch he had on Andrew, and glaring at him. Andrew wasn’t impressed.

“Fine, but I’m not apologizing,” he said, leveling his own glare at Neil before he grabbed his keys and left. Luckily he already had his shoes on–it was something Bee had made him do, something about how the routine was good for him. Neil slammed the door shut behind him, and Andrew rolled his eyes again. Down the hall a door opened and a middle aged lady stuck her head out, she was glaring at him. 

“Every, fucking, _day._ ” She hissed at him, and Andrew flipped her off. She blinked though, “Wait, you’re the other guy–oh shit what did you do to get kicked out? It’s always him,” She said, jerking her head in a gesture at Neil and smirking slightly. Andrew ignored her and did not stomp down the stairs. He got into his car and pulled out of the parking lot. He took out his phone–before realizing it was still Neil’s and he’d left his at the apartment–and jammed Renee’s number in. 

As he drove he passed a sleek black car, it caught his attention for a split second but he shook the thought off.

Renee picked up on the fourth ring. 

“Spam calls on a Sunday? Really?” Allison’s cranky voice said over the phone. 

“It’s Andrew,” he said, she groaned. 

“Even worse, I was cuddling dude, fuck you,” she said, but she handed the phone over and Renee’s voice spoke up. 

“Good morning Andrew, I didn’t recognize the number,” she said, sounding serene as always, Andrew started to ask her about sparring, but then his phone rang again. He slowed to a stop at a red light and glanced at the number. Riko’s number. 

“I’ll call back I have to make a death threat to a bitch,” Andrew said, Renee laughed and Andrew hung up on her, he picked up the call. 

“Out for a morning drive?” Riko’s eerie voice said, and Andrew froze. 

“Trying to sound creepy?” Andrew mocked.

“It’s a shame really, you two are so predictable,” he purred, “Just rile you both up enough and one of you will storm out, it does leave you both pretty vulnerable though…” 

“Riko if you–”

“Bye for now, if you hurry you could watch it dry,” He interrupted, and then hung up. Andrew threw the phone into the footwell and did a u-turn back towards the apartment. His gut was roiling, and his hands were clenching the wheel so tight his fingers were going cold. He sped down the streets until he finally got back to the apartment, he spotted the black car he’d passed earlier and felt like punching a hole through something. 

The stair took too long and by the time he got up the door was ajar. He burst in, there was a body on the floor with a knife jammed into its skull–thankfully not Neil–but the apartment was a wreck. Neil’s door was open so Andrew shoved inside. 

As soon as he did muscle memory took over and he didn’t even have a chance to realize the situation until his brain caught up and he was standing over two dazed looking guys in black. As he caught up with himself he realized they’d been pinning Neil down–who kicked out as soon as he got the chance and caught one of them in the jaw. Andrew grabbed the other by his hair and slammed his face into Andrew’s knee. Both of them collapsed to the ground and Andrew grabbed Neil and dragged him out of the room, shutting the door behind then and propping up a chair under it. 

Once the door was secure he turned on Neil, who was staring wide eyed into the mirror. 

“Neil what did they do.” Andrew bit out, and Neil when Neil turned to face him he was covering his cheek. 

“Fuck,” he swore, Andrew’s insides squirmed as he scanned Neil.

There was a bruise on his temple starting, and ones around his arms from where they’d held him down. No doubt there were more hiding under his clothes but even just those ones made Andrew’s blood boil. Neil was still covering his cheek. 

“What’s under your hand Neil.” Andrew said through gritted teeth. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Neil swore again, which wasn’t helping, so Andrew grabbed his wrist for him and ripped it away. 

In thick black lines–ink still drying–there was a Japanese letter on Neil’s cheek: り. 

Andrew didn’t need too many guesses to figure out what Riko had tattooed Neil with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ow ow ow ow ow ow I didn't like writing this chapterrrrrr. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long, writing out Andrew's nightmare was rough. It's too much like mine lmao. though, I've never had to go through what Andrew did so mine are always just spiders, I fucking hate spiders. Anyways, the point is: I'm no expert and so if you know I did something wrong or offensive lemme know and I'll change it. (@Luci-Cunt on tumblr)
> 
> Alrighty, now I'm tired, and am going to nap a lil. Oh! Also for those of you who don't know:
> 
> り = Hiragana = ‘ri’ in Japanese. Cause they don't really have a letter 'r' so I just used り. Kevin's gonna freak out about it next chapter and it'll get actually explained don't worry. 
> 
> NEXT TIME: "What the _fuck_ is that?"


	15. Neil Hides Behind Hello Kitty bandaids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of the non-con tattooing/ there is a dead body/ Ricardo Rodriguez Guadalupe Vásquez III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WEDNESDAY WEDNESDAY WEDNESDAY!!
> 
> (Today is ACTUALLY Wednesday)
> 
> Soooo: we still don't like Riko and also please don't make-out in front of dead bodies kids

Neil wanted to scratch the mark off his face. He wanted to tear it off, cut it out, _remove_ it. The only thing stopping him was Andrew, who kept flicking him everytime he started scratching at the bandage. Wymack was standing in their living room, blinking down at the body Neil had left in the kitchen, the other two that Neil and Andrew had knocked out managed to book it out the window, which was also pissing Neil off. Neil was sitting on the couch and Andrew was standing behind him. 

“So they came in, and you… stabbed one of them–in the head–with a knife?” Wymack asked slowly, Neil nodded, he reached up to adjust the bandage Andrew had stuck on his cheek over the tattoo. Andrew flicked his forehead. 

“Stop messing with it,” he whispered.

“Did they take anything?” Wymack asked, looking around the trashed room. Neil shrugged. 

“Probably not,” he said, Wymack narrowed his eyes.

“Probably not,” he repeated, and then he sighed and dragged a hand down his face like he was getting a headache. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Andrew and I were arguing, he left, and then someone knocked on the door, I assumed it was him so I opened it and instead there were three guys dressed in black. So I grabbed a knife, stabbed one of them, and tried to get to my room, they followed me and–”

“–and that’s when I walked in,” Andrew cut him off. Neil was glad, he didn’t want to have to detail getting held down and listening to the buzz of a needle inch closer and closer to his eye. His cheek burned and itched at the same time, and he reached up to scratch it. Andrew flicked his forehead again. Wymack’s eyes darted between them. 

“You were attacked by three intruders, killed one, and you didn’t feel the need to call the cops?” Wymack asked, Neil shrugged. 

“We called you,” Andrew answered, then he grabbed Neil’s wrist before Neil could reach for the bandage again. Neil glared at him–and was ignored. 

“You–oooh,” Wymack let out a long, exasperated sounding sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did they do anything besides trash the place? What’s with the bandage?” He pressed, and Neil gulped. 

“I got a tattoo,” he managed, he heard Andrew’s jaw clench behind him. Wymack blinked at him. 

“Did–”

“It wasn’t his choice.” Andrew answered before Wymack could ask. Wymack sighed again. 

“What are you two getting yourself into?” he asked quietly, Neil used his other hand to scratch at the bandage, it was just a cotton pad held on by a bandaid, and the only bandaids Andrew and Neil had were Hello Kitty ones Neil had gotten as a joke. Andrew flicked Neil’s hand and squeezed his wrist. 

“ _Stop messing with it,_ ” he hissed again, Neil glared at him. “If you keep messing with it, it will get infected.” 

“I don’t _care._ ” Neil growled, Andrew gave him a bored look. 

“It would be hard to run blind.” Andrew said, and Neil ground his teeth, but he knew Andrew was right, so he dropped his hand. 

“Ok, what’s the deal with the tattoo?” Wymack asked, and Neil took off the bandaid so he could see it. Andrew had put some kind of salve on it, so it felt sticky, and the cotton pad stuck to it a little bit. Wymack blinked at it. 

“The fuck is that?” He asked, before Neil could answer though there were footsteps pounding down the hall and someone started drumming on the door. Neil reached for the knives in Andrew’s armbands without thinking right as Wymack reached for his gun. Andrew just tightened his hand around Neil’s wrist and didn’t move. 

Wymack peeked through the peephole, and then sighed.

“It’s Kevin,” he said, and then he opened the door, Kevin shoved past him into the room and then froze as soon as he spotted Neil. It probably would have seemed comical if Neil was in the mood to laugh, because it was like Kevin his a solid wall. He gaped at the tattoo. 

“What the fuck is _that_?” Kevin said, he took a step forward and Wymack grabbed his arm and tugged him away from stepping on the dead body in front of the door. Kevin glanced down at it and shrieked. “Who the fuck is _that_?!”

“Why is he here?” Andrew asked, tone flat, even though Neil knew he was pissed thanks to the tight grip on his wrist. 

“Wymack and I were going over the case when you texted–” Kevin started, and Wymack cut him off with a glare. 

“And I remember telling you to _stay at the station,_ ” he reprimanded, and Kevin had the decency to look sheepish. 

“Seriously though, why do you have that–do you think it’s some kind of joke?” Kevin growled at Neil. Neil scowled and reached for Andrew’s knives again, but Andrew was gone. Then suddenly he was standing in front of Kevin. He landed one punch to Kevin’s abdomen before Neil could stand up and drag him backwards. Wymack yelled something and pulled Kevin away too. 

“ _Christ Minyard–_ Kevin what the hell were you thinking?!” Wymack snapped, Andrew shook off Neil’s hand–which he’d been careful to only grab Andrew’s shirt with–and glared at Kevin, who was still trying to breathe. 

“What does the tattoo say Kevin,” Neil asked, he could guess but he wanted to know for sure. Kevin looked up at him, still wheezing, and blinked. 

“You don’t–?” he started to ask, and then he finally seemed to put it together, his eyes widened. “What did you do?” he asked finally, and this time Andrew grabbed his wrist before he could take one of the knives. 

“What’s the tattoo say Kevin.” Neil ground out again.

“Ri,” he said. “Its–it’s Hiragana, which means it’s a name, and in Japanese they have a different alphabet so it’s–”

“R.” Andrew finished for him, Riko. Neil shoved Andrew off of him and kicked the couch. 

“Fuck.” he hissed, and he dragged his hands through his hair and dropped to his knees. “ _Fuck._ ” he said again.

“Can someone tell me what the fuck is happening?” Wymack growled.

“Riko,” Neil said, he felt tired, and sick, and he wanted to scrape the stupid letter off his face. 

“As in Moriyama? Why the hell would he tattoo you?” Wymack said, his brow furrowed as he looked around between them all. Andrew settled down on the couch in front of Neil, and Neil felt his fingers as he re-stuck the bandaid so that the mark was covered again.

“To prove a point,” Andrew said, sounding almost convincingly unaffected but there was more bite to his words than Neil had expected to hear. King appeared suddenly, she meowed softly and butted her head gently against Neil’s arm. He scratched her ears absentmindedly.

“A point–? Will you all stop being cryptic for five seconds, what message is this supposed to send?” Wymack demanded, Andrew glared at him. 

“‘ _Mine._ ’” Kevin said for them. It made Neil’s stomach clench and Wymack let out a long, slow breath and dragged a hand down his face again. 

“What the _hell_ is wrong with this guy?” he murmured, looking up at the ceiling. “Alright, well, there’s got to be something we can do–I know a guy who removes tattoos he’ll do it cheap, and that’s barely anything–”

“No.” Neil said, cutting off Wymack. As much as he wanted it off he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t want to risk Riko retaliating against him and hurting Andrew.

“‘No’? You mean you want to walk around that psycho’s initials?” Wymack asked, and Neil looked up at him. 

“I don’t _want_ to, but I can’t.” Neil said, he heard Kevin’s reluctant swallow. 

“Riko wouldn’t be happy if he removed it,” Kevin explained. Neil looked up at Andrew, and for a second he wondered if Andrew was going to punch him next. 

“ _Hypocrite,_ ” he hissed, and Neil managed a small smile. 

“Alright, so what does that mean for us?” Wymack asked, and Neil clenched his jaw. 

“It means we have to get Riko behind bars so I can cut this off in front of him.” 

“Dramatic, but ok,” Wymack muttered, Kevin, Neil and Andrew all glared at him. 

“The witness, if we can get the witness to testify–” Neil started, he stood up to go into the kitchen where Kevin’s wall of crazy was still covering their cabinets. Andrew grabbed his arm though and stopped him. 

“You were the one saying that seemed off yesterday,” he reminded him, and Neil glared. 

“That was before,” he snapped, Andrew didn’t let go, and he didn’t change his expression.

“Before what? You decided brains are overrated?”

“That’s not–”

“Why would Riko be the one to pick up Kenya, that doesn’t make any sense.” Andrew said, throwing Neil’s own logic back in his face. It made Neil want to stab him–he didn’t.

“But then that means she’s associated with Riko somehow, or…” Kevin slowed off and he rubbed his chin. “What did the witness look like?” he asked Wymack, who shrugged. 

“I got the tip as an email,” Wymack said, “I took a picture of it, uh–” he paused and pulled out his phone, holding it out to Neil, Kevin and Andrew leaned around him to see it. 

_Kenya Rickends was kidnapped by a shorter, asian looking man with a tattoo on his cheek._

__It was signed _Val____._

“Wait–wait, _wait–_ ” Kevin suddenly started jumping up and down and pointing to the email address. “ _Jean_!” Kevin said, the email address was labeled as _533266._

“Could he have been any more blatant?” Andrew said flatly, and Wymack looked like he wanted to strangle each of them as Kevin just danced around like he was having a psychotic break. 

“Who the hell is Jean?”

“Jean! Jean Valjean! It was joke we used to–it’s not important–he’s asking for help!” Kevin said, sounding much too excited about someone sending an encrypted distress message. 

“Wait–so we _don’t_ have a witness?” Wymack asked.

“No! We have even _better_ than a witness! If Jean is willing to testify against Riko he can prove everything,” Kevin said, and Wymack furrowed his brow. 

“Wait, Jean, I know that name, Jean Moreau? Isn’t he a Raven?”

“A striker for Edgar Allen,” Kevin and Neil said in sync. Neil mentally slapped himself and Kevin looked at him like he’d hung the moon.

“You like exy?” he asked.

“Kevin, _focus,_ Jean hasn’t said anything all these years, why is he speaking up now? Andrew asked, and Kevin snapped back to attention. 

“I don’t know, I tried to convince him to leave when I did but–” he cut himself off. 

“But what?” Wymack asked, Kevin’s hand started twitching. 

“But he wouldn’t,” Kevin practically snapped. Everyone gave him a weird look–well, Andrew just looked bored, and Neil was busy itching his bandaid, but Wymack gave him a weird look.

“Riveting– _out,_ ” Andrew said suddenly, the other three blinked at him. 

“What–? But the–”

“No, get out of my apartment.”

“We should all brainstorm, we can meet back up later,” Neil explained, Wymack blinked, then glanced around the room and seemed to realize something. He grabbed Kevin and shoved him–stuttering–outside. Then he pointed at Neil. 

“Get some sleep kid,” he said, Neil rolled his eyes.

“You sound like Dan,” he muttered, Wymack didn’t seem to hear him, and he left. “What was that about?” Neil asked, Andrew gave him a deadpan look. 

“I _know_ I’m an idiot but I already told you I need things spelled out.” Neil said, and Andrew sighed.

“Not even an hour ago you got attacked and tattooed,” Andrew said, Neil shrugged, and resisted the urge to scratch the tattoo. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, and Andrew gave him a withering look. “Honestly, I’ve been through worse,” that definitely wasn’t a lie. He had all the scars on his body to prove it. Andrew still didn’t look impressed. 

“It doesn’t matter, lay down, either here or in your own bed I don’t care,” Andrew snapped, Neil blinked, but listened and got up to sit on the couch. As soon as he did the exhaustion hit him. He wasn’t sure if it was from the effort of trying to fight off Riko’s goons or just from the strain of dealing with that entire situation. 

Plus now his mind was buzzing with new information. Jean seemed involved–very involved with Riko’s shit and if they could get him to testify it could be irrefutable. If that happened there was a good chance the Moriyama’s would rather cut off the limb rather than let it rot in prison and risk it blabbing to the wrong people. And, if Neil swung it right, he might be able to convince the Moriyama’s to let _him_ have that honor. 

Though, that would probably mean ousting himself as the son of the Butcher, which wasn’t an option.

Andrew suddenly flicked Neil’s forehead and he winced and glared up at Andrew, holding his forehead. 

“I said _lay_ down,” Andrew said, and Neil rolled his eyes but leaned back and used the arm of the couch as a pillow. Andrew sat down by his feet. A water bottle had appeared beside Neil on the floor. Neil looked back up to Andrew, who was flicking through tv channels before settling on Netflix.

“I’m going to kill Riko,” Neil said quietly, Andrew didn’t even react. 

“No, you aren’t,” he said, Neil furrowed his brows.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to skin him alive.” 

Neil grinned, which probably should have been an inappropriate response to someone 100% meaning to follow through on that. But he couldn’t help it. 

“Maybe I’ll get the tattoo changed to an A,” he said with a smirk, Andrew narrowed his eyes on him and Neil’s smirk widened to a devious grin. “What? My middle name’s Abram,” he said, the picture of innocence. 

“I hate you.”

“Or maybe I’ll just put a middle finger there, that’d really piss him off, or just an ‘x’ through it,” Neil continued, Andrew rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, fuck up your face more, I’m sure getting a middle finger will do wonders for your future job prospects,” Andrew remarked, Neil laughed. 

“I’m sure Matt and Dan would love it.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

“About this? Well, I don’t plan on uncovering it, but if I have too I think it’s about time they learned about Ricardo Rodriguez Guadalupe Vásquez III,” Neil said with a smirk, Andrew quirked a brow. 

“Oh really? And just who is Ricardo Rodriguez Guadalupe Vásquez III?”

“The best clown I’ve ever had the displeasure of watching trip over his giant shoes,” he said nonchalantly, “My backup story is that I got drunk and thought this meant ‘ _eternal._ ’” Andrew hummed at that. 

“Very white of you,” he remarked, Neil laughed and propped himself up.

“Maybe I just won’t say anything,” Neil remarked, suddenly growing serious. “Maybe if I ignore it enough everyone will and then I can pretend like it doesn’t exist.”

“Ignoring something doesn’t make it go away, that’s how you get lockjaw,” Andrew said dryly, and Neil rolled his eyes. “You can’t hide behind a Hello Kitty bandaid forever.”

“I can try, maybe I’ll start doing it with all my problems–though, I don’t think there’s a bandaid big enough to cover you up,” Neil said, and Andrew gave him a flat look. 

“Shut up,” he said, and Neil grinned. 

“Make me.” Andrew quirked a brow but before he could say anything the door suddenly burst open. Andrew was between it and Neil in a second flat and Neil groaning in frustration as he realized it was just Wymack. 

“The body.” Wymack said, and Neil and Andrew glanced down at the dark clothed figure with a knife sticking out of his head decorating their doorstep. _Right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hemma hemmmmmaaa heemmmmmmmm
> 
> I don't know what that is but I stg if I have to talk about one more critical article on Midnights Children I'm going to strangle someone. They all say the same thing just in different, flowery, annoying ways with big words that make my brain hurt. Also: ENGLISH ONLY HAS ONE WORD FOR THERE AND THAT AND THOSE AND THESE.
> 
> Fuck, I spent like an hour trying to remember which was the right That only to realize THAT IS THE ONLY THAT. I hate language.
> 
> Now I'm just ranting, I need to shower, and I have a chemistry test today, wish me luck, BUT! I get to give a lecture on Samurai influence in Japanese government and I am SO excited. (The other people in my class are less excited but I'm going to ignore them)
> 
> NEXT TIME: “What a surprise, we caught a frog.”


	16. Andrew Drown in Passive Aggression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew catches another stray (and gets him a sunny home), Neil and Renee team up and murder Andrew with passive aggressiveness, Wymack is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mentions of violence/ abuse (Jean)/ drinking at three in the afternoon, AnDrEw/ also the death of a fuck ton of ice cream :'(
> 
> And a heads up: I changed the sneak peek quote cause I forgot that we don't actually get Nicky until next chapter because COLUMBIA! (It's gonna be fuuuuunnnn)
> 
> Also: lol I just dropped off a freaking cliff lmao, I meant to update more but school started back up again and I've been dealing with paperwork. I HATE dealing with paperwork BUT if I manage to dot every stupid i and cross every t right I can get two years of college nearly free, so, it's worth it (luckily)
> 
> That means I might actually be limited to updating only on scheduled Wednesdays, but hey! There's a chapter count! I actually wrote a plot line!! But I don't know how to end things so there's gonna be 19 chapters and then #20 is an epilogue.

“So how has your week been?” Bee asked, her notebook open and pen casually poised to write. It was one of the fancy ballpoint ones with the tiny tip that Andrew had gotten for her last christmas because she complained too much about her wide tip pens. Andrew shrugged. 

There was a lot he could tell her. A _lot_. But most of it was either incriminating or something he wasn’t willing to start the conversation off with.

Incriminating: the fact that he was regularly making out with an actual serial killer. 

Not an ice-breaker: the fact that he _was_ making out regularly with someone. 

Bee knew he was gay at this point, she’d been the first person he told outright in highschool when he’d first started seeing her just to try and get a reaction. He’d wanted her to blow up in his face so he had an excuse to react just as violently. She hadn’t though, instead she’d just offered him another chocolate and moved on. Somehow that had been more shaking then watching her scream homophobic slurs in his face. 

The next week there was a tiny pride flag sticking out of her pen mug. Andrew had pretended he didn’t notice. 

“Any interesting anecdotes about King? Or the roommate?” she asked, scribbling something on the notepad before setting it aside to sip her hot chocolate. She watched him over the rim patiently.

“They’re both still brats I have to tolerate,” he paused for a moment to sip his own cocoa. Bee always made her own cocoa mix and used milk instead of water, which made it thick and creamy. The marshmallows added to the top were also melting and adding to the preferable texture. This week she’d made them her mexican chocolate mix, Andrew could taste the bite of spice in the back of his throat. 

He didn’t know exactly what made it mexican. Mexican spices? Mild racism? Whatever it was it tasted good and Andrew didn’t have the energy to say something.

“Someone did break into the apartment though,” he added as an afterthought, taking another sip of the cocoa. Bee blinked at him. 

“Oh? Are you alright?” Bee asked, Andrew nodded.

“I wasn’t there, but Neil killed one of them,” he said, which made Bee blink again. She set her cocoa down and wrote something on the notepad. 

“Andrew, do you remember when I told you that you use apathy to cope with upsetting situations?” Bee asked, it was a rhetorical question, so Andrew didn’t answer. 

“Was that an upsetting situation?” Andrew asked before Bee could. She gave him a flat look. 

“Andrew, shutting me out won’t help.” Bee said, and Andrew sighed, he took another sip of his cocoa and glanced at the clock on the wall. They had another half hour together. 

“I offered Neil a deal, he took it, he’s making my side of it very difficult.” Andrew said, Bee nodded. Andrew couldn’t tell her much more, because if he did she would probably catch on to something and do her own research. Which he didn’t need. That could mean she would have something else to pester him with and that she could end up on Moriyama radar. Neither of those things were good. 

“A deal like the one you had with Kevin? Or a deal like you had with Aaron?”

“Both and neither,” Andrew said, he finished his cocoa as Bee waited patiently for him to continue, her pen poised again. “Neil gets my protection–same deal as both of them.”

“Andrew you know that’s not what I was asking.” Bee said carefully, she was right, Andrew did know. _Did you make the deal that you are too stubborn to leave or are you just complaining._

“More like Kevin,” Andrew answered after a pause. Bee nodded. 

“Are you aware that you can have relationships with people without something binding you contractually?” Bee asked sincerely. Her words sounded passive aggressive but everything about her was genuinely curious. 

“Aware? Yes, willing to change? No.” Andrew said, which was technically half lie. He and Aaron had no deal anymore, neither did him and Nicky, but both of those relationships had started with deals. 

“Why is that?” 

“Too many words,” Andrew said, he didn’t feel like explaining what Bee had already figured out. 

The rest of their time went by at a crawl, with Bee spouting the same _‘try to trust people,’_ message she’d been since Andrew had started seeing her. Somewhere in the back of Andrew’s head there was a part of him that knew she was right. But that voice was too small to be credible, so Andrew swallowed it with the last gulps of melted marshmallow in the bottom of his cocoa mug. 

When the session was over Andrew drove back to the apartment–picking up new ice cream on the way–and smoked a cigarette with the window rolled down, his mind completely blank for once. When he got back to the apartment he found Renee and Neil sitting on the couch watching an exy game. Renee smiled at him and got up to help unload the grocery bags she spotted, Neil stayed sitting but made eye contact with Andrew as he passed. 

He raised a brow and flicked his eyes in a gesture to Renee. 

“You can trust her,” Andrew assured him in German, Neil nodded, but gave Renee another wary look before tucking his feet underneath him tighter and going back to the exy game. 

“How’s Bee?” Renee asked as Andrew passed her the ice cream to stick in the freezer. Andrew shrugged.

“She’s Bee,” he said which made Renee laugh.

“I had to put off my session last week because of a game, I won’t see her until tomorrow,” she explained, “Neil mentioned that Nicky’s coming down this weekend?”

“Mmhmm, I’d invite you but there’s going to be unholy amounts of debauchery and choice alcohol use,” Andrew said, Renee gave him a lengthy sigh but her smile barely faltered.

“Thank you for thinking of me, I’ll make sure to add your kidneys to my prayers,” she said sweetly, Andrew just rolled his eyes. Then the phone sitting on the table started buzzing from a new text. Andrew glanced at the screen, recognizing the number Riko kept using. He let out his own sigh and picked up Neil’s phone, scanning over the text. 

“Andrew, don’t you think it’s rude to go through other people’s things without asking?” Renee asked quietly, Andrew kept scrolling through the text. It was a time and address. 

“Mhmmm,” he hummed, before closing the phone and sticking it in his front pocket. “How late can you babysit?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Neil called from the couch, he was glaring at Andrew out of the corner of his eyes. Andrew ignored him. 

“I would love to stay for dinner if Neil’s ok with it,” Renee said placatingly.

“Takeout it is, I have another errand to run,” Andrew said, pretending not to hear Neil’s grumblings and he left for the door. 

“Neil, is it alright if I stay longer? I’ve been enjoying the game,” Renee said, and Neil sighed.

“Whatever.”

“You will get to be by yourself again when I know I can leave for more than ten minutes without you being abducted or attacked or starting some kind of fight,” Andrew said as he left, catching the tail end of Neil’s glare.

“Fuck you!” he yelled, but Andrew closed the door on him. 

The woman at the end of the hall was leaning in the doorway, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

“Say a word and I’ll cut off your tongue,” Andrew snapped, and she put her hands up and shrugged, stepping back into the apartment with a smug smirk. Andrew took the stairs down, not wanting to have to stand in the empty hallway and give Neil time to realize Andrew had taken his phone. 

The address turned out to be a park, all the way on the outskirts of the city, Andrew lit a cigarette and cracked the window to sit and wait for someone to show up. Neil had said the past few times it had been Jean acting as messenger, which was perfect.

It meant either Andrew and Jean could have a long overdue heart to heart or Riko would show and Andrew could wring his neck. 

Unfortunately it was Jean who showed up, he spotted Andrew’s car and started towards it, limping slightly, he knocked on the tinted windows and Andrew rolled it down for him. As soon as he spotted Andrew in the car though Jean turned to bolt. 

 

Andrew just opened the door and slammed it into Jean hard enough to knock him over. Then he got out and crouched down, snagging frenchie’s shirt and yanking him up to face level. 

“What a surprise, we caught a frog,” Andrew drawled, Jean sneered at him. His nose was bleeding, probably from smashing it on the ground, but Andrew couldn’t bring himself care. “Now, tell me Neil’s having a torrent affair and you’re not Riko’s messenger boy. Either way I won’t be happy, but one will end with your nose actually broken, and the other with you eating your tongue.” 

 

“Neil was supposed to come not you,” Jean snapped, still scowling, and Andrew rolled his eyes and pulled out the phone, showing it off to Jean for a second. 

“Mmm, he’s not very good at hiding things though,” Andrew said, then he tightened his fist in Jeans shirt. “Now answer me,” he said, letting just a taste of his anger into his otherwise flat demeanor. Jean gulped.

“Riko doesn’t know I’m here,” he said, and Andrew arched a brow at that. 

“And?” he prompted when Jean didn’t elaborate. 

“There was–he–” Jean started, and Andrew sighed. 

“Breathe,” he said, he was getting tired of reminding idiots how their lungs worked. Jean breathed for a moment, until the panic lessened from him and then he just looked exhausted. 

“I came for help, Riko’s–he–I can’t stay there anymore,” he said finally, Andrew watched him for a moment, gauging his sincerity. Then he poked Jean in the ribs. 

The man gasped in pain and doubled over. Andrew hummed at that. 

“Get in,” Andrew said, pulling Jean up by his shirt and shoving him in the direction of the car. Andrew realized he was limping from more than broken ribs and he looked a hell of a lot more pale than was probably healthy. Andrew got in after him and pulled out his own phone and dialed Wymack’s number, he glared at Jean.

“If this is a trick, I will make you beg to go back to Riko,” Andrew growled, Jean scowled at him, hugging his ribs and breathing ragged. 

“Message received,” he grumbled.

“What do you want Minyard?” Wymack growled as way of hello. Andrew tried not to roll his eyes. 

“I picked up another stray, my house is too full of them,” he said, and he heard Wymack curse on the other end of the phone. 

“I can get to my apartment in thirty minutes, who is it?”

“Moreau.” 

“Damn it Andrew,” Wymack growled, and then Andrew hung up. Almost immediately after there was a call from Renee. Andrew ignored it, until it rang again. Renee never called more than once. He picked it up and stayed silent to see who was calling him.

“So now you’re a petty thief?” Neil drawled, Andrew rolled his eyes. “Where are you?”

“Just picking up brats from the playground,” Andrew remarked.

“What?”

“Moreau, Riko’s been playing too rough apparently.”

“Wait–really? Where are you taking him?” 

“I’m not telling you that, because you’re not allowed to leave the house.”

“Fuck you, I don’t even have a car.”

“You’re resourceful.”

“I’m about to be resourceful with your innards, do you think Wymack will help scrub you out of the carpet like he did with the other body?” he said conversationally, Andrew rolled his eyes, _again._

“Wow, you really know what to say Neil,” he said dryly. “Put Renee on the phone,” he said, but Neil hung up. 

_Brat._

“Where you taking me?” Jean asked, his fists clenched in the material of his black hoodie.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you were going to Neil for help,” Andrew bartered, earning himself a scowl from Jean. Andrew stayed silent however, and eventually Jean sighed and relaxed in the seat. 

“He was the only number I knew, and I’m not exactly well enough to be on my own,” he explained. 

“Mhmm,” Andrew hummed, he still didn’t trust a word Jean said, the only reason he was in the car was because of how much Kevin vouched for him. 

“Riko’s planning something–for this weekend,” Jean said suddenly, and Andrew pulled the car over on the side of the road, ignoring the honked horns and Jeans panicked bracing as the car jerked to a stop. Jean winced when he hit the seat belt and clenched his jaw–probably against a louder noise at the pain. 

“What.” Andrew said, not bothering to look away from the front window. He kept his voice calm but his eyes were zeroed in on a mile marker a few feet down and if looks could kill the thing would have been obliterated. 

“I don’t know what it is, he wouldn’t say anything to me except to gloat about how it was going to put you in your place,” Jean managed to bite out around gritted teeth, and Andrew pondered the words for a moment before pulling the car back into traffic. 

“We’re going to David Wymack,” he said after a moment, and Jean’s breath hitched. 

“I can’t–”

“Not the station, his house,” Andrew interrupted, “that’s where we’re going, if you don’t like it feel free to bail out into the highway.” Jean glared at him but didn’t say anything. They spent the rest of the car ride in silence.

That was fine for Andrew, because it gave him time to think about Jean’s warning. There was a small amount of satisfaction in the idea of Riko showing up with some grand plan to an empty apartment this weekend while Andrew and Neil were in Columbia. But the rational part of Andrew’s brain knew it was more likely that Riko knew they were going to Columbia somehow. The thought of Riko planning something made Andrew want to be back where Neil was within view, but, if Jean was credible, Riko probably wasn’t going to try anything until his big weekend. 

For a moment Andrew contemplated cancelling the plans, but that would just leave Nicky and Aaron vulnerable, and while Andrew was pretty sure Riko was at least smart enough not to go after completely oblivious people, who knew what he’d do if Andrew pissed him off by evading him again.

No. It was better to go and be ready for whatever Riko was planning. Andrew made a note to let Wymack in on everything as he pulled into the man’s driveway. The door was locked, but–shockingly–the lock was still an amateur pick and Andrew had it open within seconds. He pushed it open and let himself in, assuming–correctly–that Jean would follow him in. 

Wymack’s apartment hadn’t changed a bit since Andrew had walked in to find the broken mess that was supposed to be Kevin Day wallowing on the couch. Case files and empty coffee cups and liquor bottles were scattered around. The TV had been left on, showing what looked like footage from an old Foxes game. Andrew recognized Seth, smashing a racquet against the floor and getting dragged off court with a red card.

 _Guess people really don’t change much._ Andrew pondered as he dug through Wymack’s cupboards for a bottle of whiskey. It was a little early but Andrew was starting to get an idiot shaped headache. Jean lingered in the kitchen, looking around with his face displaying the oddest mix of uncertainty and judgement. 

“This place is a sty,” he said distastefully, Andrew finally unearthed a bottle from above the fridge and shrugged. 

“It’s homey,” he said sarcastically, having to step over a stack of files Wymack had left in the middle of his kitchen floor. 

“Andrew it better be you that broke into my apartment you shit,” Wymack’s voice snapped as he came around the corner, gun out. Jean froze and kept his eyes on the weapon until Wymack put it away. 

“Surprise,” Andrew said dryly as he poured himself a shot. 

“Jean, right?” Wymack asked, giving Jean a surveying once over as he tucked his gun back into the holster under his blazer. Wymack held out a hand, Jean eyed it suspiciously. “I’m David, David Wymack.”

“I know who you are,” Jean said, he didn’t take Wymack’s offered handshake and after a moment of awkwardly holding it out Wymack pulled it away and sighed. He muttered something under his breath that sounded like _one day I’ll figure out what the fuck I did,_ but Andrew pretended not to hear him and knocked back a shot. He poured another one–only to have Wymack steal it. Andrew glared at him and Wymack took the bottle and the shotglass away and glared back. 

“My whiskey, get your own freeloader,” he grumbled, and Andrew rolled his eyes. “Also it’s _three._ ”

“Oh, but you haven’t had to put up with the smart-mouthed brat with a death wish,” Andrew said, and Wymack pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. 

“Ok, you–” he gestured to Andrew, “–stop talking, you–” he pointed to Jean, “–start.”

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say,” Jean said coldly.

“Kevin filled us in on the code, we know you were the witness, was that a one time burst of anarchy or are you actually willing to go in court and testify?” Wymack pressured, and Andrew almost laughed at the way Jean’s hackles went up. 

“It wasn’t,” he said quietly after a moment. Wymack watched him. 

“It wasn’t what?” he prompted.

“It wasn't a one time thing–I’ll testify, _anonymously._ ” Jean snapped, and Wymack poured himself another shot. 

“Where’s Neil?” he asked Andrew, who gave him a flat look. 

“In the ditch where I left him?” Wymack kept staring, Andrew ignored him. “Frogger says Riko’s planning something this weekend, you hear about any of it?”

“ _I swear you’ll be the fucking death of me Minyard–_ I don’t know, I–probably not? There was some breakout from over in Seattle? I can’t remember the guys name, but that’s all I heard about,” Wymack said exasperatedly, Andrew furrowed his brows.

“Why are you hearing about cases from Seattle?”

“They guy was from the area, they thought he might run back home,” Wymack explained dismissively, he turned his attention back to Jean. “You–should be in witness protection,” Wymack said, and Jean barked a humorless laugh. 

“And broadcast my location?” he bit out, Wymack rubbed his temples. 

“Listen, Abby–my wife–has a vacation home in California, she should be on her way back by now but no one at the station knows about it, you could hide out there until we get more evidence rolled out,” Wymack said, and Jean stared at him for a moment. 

“What’s the matter Frenchie, never had someone do something nice for you?” Andrew asked, Jean flinched from the words like Andrew had hit him and Wymack glared at him.

“The fuck did I say about you talking Minyard?” he snapped, Andrew gave him a bored look. 

“I don’t know where you got the idea that I do what I’m told from, maybe you’re confusing me with Aaron,” he said flatly.

“Don’t you have a smart-mouthed brat to go hound?” 

“I wanted to see how long it took Renee’s good Christian soul to snap,” he said as he started walking towards the door, “Oh also you might wanna check out Frogger's ribs,” Andrew added, and then shut the door behind him.  
****

Andrew ducked as he entered his own apartment, half expecting Neil to throw something at him. When he didn’t Andrew glanced around and spotted Neil sitting on the couch with King in his lap. Andrew half expected Neil to suddenly sprout a tail just so he could flick it in annoyance like King did. 

“Oh, you’re back,” Neil said, passive aggressively staring at the tv. Renee was in the kitchen making tea, she smiled at Andrew, who scowled past her at the freezer–the door was hanging wide open and all the ice cream was leaking out of its containers and puddling. 

“ _Brat,_ ” Andrew muttered, and Neil feigned innocence, making a big deal about turning around and spotting the open freezer as Andrew slammed it shut. 

“Oh no! I can’t believe I forgot that! If only someone had been around to remember, can you really blame me though? I still need a babysitter, obviously I’m practically invalid,” Neil said. 

“Leave then, I don’t care, but when you get snatched up by Yam boy, _again,_ I’ll take my sweet time saving your dumbass,” Andrew threatened, Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Renee and I ordered Pad-Thai, turns out she’s a fan of it too,” Neil said, then he made a face. “Oh right, I forgot, you don’t like peanuts, damn, if only you had been here.”

Andrew wondered just how much the world would miss Neil Josten if he were to disappear and get dug up five years down the road and be marked as the most brutally killed human in existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wham-bam, shang-a-lang and a sha-la-la-la-la
> 
> That song is stuck in my head.
> 
> Anywho,
> 
> NEXT TIME: "A fucking _tazer?_ Really–? Fuck."


	17. Neil Doesn't Like Tasers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Riko being a creep/ mentions of dead bodies/ another very poorly written kiss scene/ a LOT of cussing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: So like... I'm very aro-ace and I want these hoes to be happy but I just legit don't understand the appeal of sex/ kissing/ non-platonic intimacy. So, I gave it my best shot (pt II) but sorry if it's vague and weird but that's why.
> 
> Also, the scenes with Kevin being a history nerd are actually just pulled from actual conversations I've had because I love Kevin and I want him to be as big of a history nerd as I am (@you-better-rvn you know what I'm talking about)
> 
> Anyways, I hate Riko! But NICKY!!!!! I LOVE HIM!!!!

“What do you get when you mix a hereditary warrior class with a 250 year peace?”

“I don’t know Kevin, what do you get?”

“Bureaucrats.” It was four in the afternoon, Neil and Andrew had driven all the way down to the Columbia house and Kevin had invited himself along. He was already drunk. “Get it, because of the Tokuga–” Andrew stuck a vodka bottle in Kevin’s mouth and cut him off. Kevin made an indignant noise but took a long gulp off the bottle. 

He’d been a bit of a wreck since finding out Riko was planning on striking at some point, and he’d managed to walk in on Wymack patching up Jean’s injuries and then pinned himself into the backseat of Andrew’s car and refused to leave. Somehow he’d also gotten ahold of a bottle of vodka, which meant the entire car ride to Columbia Neil and Andrew had been subjected to something like one of those ‘Drunk History’ episodes. 

_“White people history is so dumb, it’s all the same, ‘argh I’m–believe in capital G-o-d and think your lower-capital g-o-d is wrong–die blarg blarg blarg!”_

_“Lower-capital isn’t a thing Kevin.”_

_“You’re just saying that because you’re white.”_

Halfway through the car ride Andrew and Neil were both trying to find the best rest stop to pull off at so they could stuff Kevin in the trunk. Luckily for Kevin, he passed out, only to wake back up and start all over again when they pulled into the Columbia house. 

Aaron and Katelyn pulled up soon after, both riding in Katelyn’s truck and Aaron and Andrew had a mini-glare-battle over who was going to go pick up their cousin and his husband from the airport. 

Andrew ended up winning. 

“Look Kevin, Andrew’s leaving without you,” Andrew said, pointing at Aaron’s retreating back. Kevin looked panicked for a moment, before narrowing his eyes and looking back at Andrew. 

“You’re Andrew,” he said, Neil almost laughed at the doubt he heard. “You’ve got the–oh no,” Kevin said, looking down to Andrew’s arms for the bands, but Andrew was wearing long sleeves today, Kevin turned and bolted after Aaron and Katelyn, Andrew closed the door after him and locked it. Neil laughed.

“I almost feel bad,” he admitted and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Oh now he grows a heart,” Andrew remarked, Neil punched his arm–careful to do it only because Andrew would see it coming.

“Shut up,” he said, Andrew gave him a bland look before turning and leaving the mud room. 

The house was massive, and Neil wasn’t totally sure how a family lead by a broke college age kid living in Germany had managed to afford it. Andrew had mentioned all three of him, Nicky, and Aaron had worked at some bar and that Nicky also worked two other jobs, but that still wasn’t realistic. 

The living room was the size of Neil’s apartment, with a large tv hanging on a wall in front of a big couch with bean bag chairs and a cozy looking window seat outlooking the street. The walls were white, and the room was mostly clean–aside from a few dents and what looked like cigarette smoke stains marking the ceiling above the window seat. Neil didn’t have to wonder who’s seat that had probably been. 

There was an archway leading into a kitchen on the right and another hallway that had a door to what was probably a bedroom and then ended in a staircase. 

All around the house looked surprisingly homey and clean, Neil wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting though. Maybe something more chaotic? More empty tubs of icecream and half eaten sweets?

He paused as Andrew made his way over to the doorway before the staircase, throwing it open casually and tossing his bags inside. Neil assumed that was his room, which meant Nicky and Aaron’s rooms were most likely upstairs. Unless Andrew and Aaron shared a room, which Neil couldn’t picture. 

“How the hell did you afford this place?” Neil asked, still looking around. 

“Life insurance,” Andrew said, “And there was a family murder-suicide, they couldn’t get the stains out of the carpet in Aaron’s room,” he deadpanned. Neil gave him a narrow eyed look. 

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” he said, Andrew shrugged. Neil smiled for some reason and then set his bags down on the couch. He assumed there were only two rooms upstairs which meant him and Kevin were probably going to be staying in the living room–lovely. 

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked suddenly, and Neil furrowed his brows.

“Setting my stuff down.”

“You’re going to sleep in the living room, with Kevin, who snores like a freights train?”

“Well it’s not like I have other options, and I’ve slept in worse places before,” Neil said. That was true, once he and his mother had slept on an actual freight train– _that_ had been a night. 

“ _Martyr,_ ” Andrew muttered, before grabbing Neil’s stuff and tossing it haphazardly into his own room. Neil blinked in surprise.

“Well you didn’t offer so–”

“One more word and I’ll lock you out,” he deadpanned, walking into the kitchen as he did. Neil rolled his eyes at him and stepped into Andrew’s room, he’d meant to check and make sure his stuff hadn’t exploded out of the bags but he ended up pausing to take in the room. 

It was about the size of the rooms in the apartment, with eggshell colored walls and two windows on the back and right walls. A tv took up the wall next to the door. A big full bed took up one corner of the room, shoved all the way back and against the wall as far from the door as it could get apparently. There was a nightstand with a lamp next to it and positioned so that it could also be used by the cushy looking armchair next to the bed. 

Shelves had been set in at eye level–for Andrew and Neil which meant basically chest level for everyone else–and each was stuffed with books. A tiny desk finished the room, complete with one of those swivel chairs and what looked like charger cords leading up to the top. Neil poked gently at a little glass statuette of what looked like a badger of some sort. 

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked, appearing leaning against the doorframe behind Neil, who turned to face him. 

“Wondering how you managed to hide what a massive nerd you are,” Neil said, Andrew gave him an unimpressed look.

“Says the guy who gets excited about taxes,” he shot back. Neil glared at him. 

“I said I didn’t mind the math they came with, not that I liked _doing_ taxes, I’m not a masochist,” Neil said defensively, and Andrew rolled his eyes. 

Then Neil suddenly realized they were in a house, alone, until Aaron got back with everyone else in a couple of hours. Neil didn’t know what exactly to do with that information. He wasn’t sure what he and Andrew were, they’d kissed–once–that had been great. They’d almost kissed again, but Wymack had interrupted them.

Also the dead body. Now Neil was thinking about the stain in the rug they’d had to throw out. Dead bodies really should be a turn off. 

Neil glanced at Andrew again. 

They _should_ be. 

“So, we’ve got the house to ourselves for...what, next couple of hours?”

But eh, at the end of the day a dead body was still just a body.

Andrew gave Neil an expressionless look. “Yes,” he said, Neil smirked. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asked teasingly, Andrew glared. 

“I hate you,” he said even as he pushed off the doorframe and crowded Neil against the wall, Neil grinned and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yes or no?” 

“Yes.”

Neil was half expecting the excitement of kissing Andrew to have worn away. For it to become just another gross feeling couple of minutes that Neil had to suffer through. 

He was relieved to find that it wasn’t.

For half a second his mind wandered to what his mother might think if she could see him right now–pinned against a wall with another person sucking on his neck–he almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity. 

And then Andrew was– _fuck._ His mind zeroed back in on the situation. 

“I wanna leave a mark yes or no?” Andrew asked suddenly, voice sounding husky. Neil’s brain took a moment to catch up with the question–with the situation.

“Yes,” he said, barely keeping a nervous sounding _‘sounds like a plan’_ to himself. Andrew watched him for a moment like he was gauging Neil’s honesty, then apparently deemed it ok and his lips were on Neil’s neck.

Neil was really glad Kevin didn’t burst in.

After Neil didn’t know how much time Andrew leaned back. Neil gasped for air and leaned against the wall. Andrew watched him for a moment before stepping back, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of a drawer in his desk and started out the door. 

“Don’t follow me,” he said, and Neil blinked, but listened and stayed put as Andrew left. He listened to him go up the stairs and then glanced up as the floorboards creaked from his walking before it went quiet. 

Neil sighed. His face still felt hot and his hair was probably a mess. Hesitantly he touched his fingers to his sensitive feeling neck, it sent a rush through him and he blushed again. Neil shook his head out and cleared this throat. 

He looked around and found the tv remote and settled into the armchair to distract himself from how warm he was feeling.  
****

“AYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!” 

Neil woke up to the sound of a door slamming open and someone screaming. He jolted up out of the armchair and grabbed the lamp off the nightstand next to him to protect himself. His heart pounding he glanced between the window and the door, trying to remember where he was and how far the ground was if he jumped out the window. 

He also had no idea where Andrew was and whether or not–

“ANDREW!!! Look! Your favorite cousin’s here!!!” Neil paused at that, the voice sounded familiar, and he heard what sounded like a dry remark from Andrew. 

Then everything caught up with him. _Columbia. Columbia house, Nicky visiting. Right._

Fuck. 

Neil tried to straighten his hair, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep and fixed his wrinkled shirt. Neil went to turn off the tv he remembered falling asleep to, only to find it dark-screened. He frowned for a moment before shaking his head and walked out of the room.

Andrew was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching something on the other tv. Aaron was in the kitchen with Katelyn–who looked as bouncy as the day Neil had met her–and Kevin was glaring somewhat dazedly at Andrew.

There were also two other men standing in the living room, neither of them looked much like Andrew or Aaron so Neil had no way of telling which was supposed to be Nicky. Though one of them was average height and wearing a garish tank top made out of what looked like an actual American flag plus jean shorts so short Neil could see the bottoms of their pockets against the man’s darker skinned legs. The guy had curly brown hair and a grin that looked equal parts exhausting and devilish. 

The other man was much more toned down, he was insanely tall–probably would give Matt a run for his money–and looked packed with lean muscle. He was wearing a much more simple light blue cotton t-shirt that almost looked sheer with a pair of jeans, he smiled pleasantly. Less sharklike than the other man’s. 

The first man gasped upon seeing Neil and his eyes went so wide it was almost comical. 

“Who are you?!” he demanded, and Neil blinked, frozen from where he’d exited the room. 

“Uh–I’m–”

“Oh my god _you’re_ Neil?! _Fuck,_ Andrew you did _not_ do him justice,” the man–who Neil assumed was Nicky–basically screeched as he looked between Neil and Andrew. “Babe–babe _tell_ me you see that _god_ standing there,” Nicky said, patting his husbands chest. The other man–Erik probably–laughed good naturedly. 

“I’m happy you’re finally not the lone wolf Andrew,” he said calmly, his deep voice heavily accented. Andrew shot him a scowl and Neil just watched them all, not sure what to say. Nicky crossed the living room and stuck out his hand, Neil took it reluctantly and shook it. 

“Hi, I’m Nicky, Andrew’s smoking hot cousin–I’m sure he’s mentioned me–this is my _gorgeous_ husband Erik–feel free to drool, I know I do–” Erik waved from behind Nicky, smiling politely. Neil waved back–with his left hand because Nicky was still shaking his right and making intense seeming eye contact. 

Neil glanced over to Andrew, but he was busy ignoring Kevin as he pouted and glared at him, Neil thought he heard a surprisingly hurt sounding _‘you tricked me,’_ but Nicky was already talking again. 

“Seriously though, he barely even scratched the surface you are– _fuck,_ and–” suddenly his eyes got wider–which didn’t seem possible. “Wait, that was Andrew’s room, what were you doing in there–Andrew did you know he was in your room?” Neil pulled his hand back from Nicky’s enthusiastic grip. 

“I was sleeping,” Neil said, taking a quick step back while trying to stay polite. Nicky luckily seemed to get it and didn’t try and follow him. Thought that could have been because he seemed to short circuit with his eyes locked on Neil’s neck. Neil’s hand shot up to cover the mark–or mark _s,_ fuck he hadn’t even checked. He felt his face heat up. “Forgot about that,” he admitted. 

“Erik catch me,” Nicky said as he fell bonelessly into his husbands arms. “Do you see that? Andrew what the fuck, Aaron! Aaron _look,_ Andrew has a _boyfriend,_ who he let sleep in his room and he has–”

“Nicky…” Erik warned quietly, and Nicky shut his mouth and glanced over to where Andrew was sitting on the couch–now with one arm over the back of it, flipping a knife casually. Nicky yelped and scrambled to stand up straight. 

“Right, ok, my bad, boundaries, got it,” Nicky said hurriedly, shooting Neil and apologetic look. “But you and I have to have a chat soon, got it mister? That’s my cousin you’re–oh my god I haven’t given Katelyn the shovel talk–” Nicky said suddenly rushing off into the kitchen where Katelyn and Aaron were. He poked his head out, narrowing his eyes in a way that probably was supposed to me menacing at Neil. “Don’t think you aren’t next,” he said, disappearing again. There was a moment of silence while Neil tried to process and then suddenly there was a scream and a scandalized sounding _‘Aaron! He’s your cousin!’_

“It’s nice meeting you Neil,” Erik said politely, before rushing into the kitchen after his husband. Neil blinked. 

“So they’re…” he started, pausing to search for the right word. 

“Exhausting?” Andrew finished for him. Neil laughed. 

“I was going to say nice but yeah.”

“Ok, now to Sweeties!” Nicky yelled, exiting the kitchen with a pissed off looking Aaron and an amused looking Katelyn and Erik.

‘Sweeties’ turned out to be a diner that the cousins used to go out to eat at. Neil still wasn’t sure what Nicky had planned for the night but some bar called ‘Eden’s’ kept being mentioned and Andrew had made Neil change into darker–unfortunately tighter–clothing. Neil wasn’t sure he was going to like whatever scene the clothes were for, but Sweeties seemed alright. The wait staff seemed to recognize them and brough Andrew a milkshake with ungodly amounts of fudge sauce without even asking him, and smiled when Nicky flirted. 

All of them except Kevin were currently crammed into a booth. They’d left Kevin locked in the bathroom at the house after he’d passed out trying to get in the shower. 

Nicky immediately wanted to know everything about Andrew and Aaron’s lives–specifically about their ‘babes.’

“Oh come on, neither of you are fun all you ever say over the phone is _‘shut up Nicky,’_ and _clearly–_ ” he gestured to Neil, “don’t appreciate describing people in detail,” he added. He leaned forward on his hands and flicked his eyes between Neil and Andrew, “So, how’d you guys meet?” he asked, Neil blinked. 

“Uh, I put an add in the paper looking for a roommate,” he said, Nicky didn’t miss a beat. 

“Were there sparks flying?”

“Nope, just a cat,” Neil said, which made Nicky frown. Neil almost thought he saw Andrew’s lips turn up a hint. 

“Interesting, I guess–um… ok well I’m just happy for both of you–Neil, Katelyn, I’m sure you know but both of them are hopeless at social interaction, honestly I’m surprised either of them landed catches like you two for significant others,” Nicky said, Katelyn laughed and Aaron turned beet red. 

“The only thing Neil is, is a significant annoyance,” Andrew said, Neil rolled his eyes.

“Aww thanks _dick,_ your pet names are getting so good,” he shot back, which earned him a flat look. 

“Brat,” Andrew muttered, and Neil flagged down the waitress who’d stopped at their table. 

“Hi, sorry, would you mind canceling my entire order and replacing it with a bowl of vanilla ice cream?” he said politely, the woman blinked at him.

“No, don’t do that, he doesn’t know what he wants,” Andrew deadpanned. The woman glanced uncertainly between the two of them and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Why not? That’s on the kids menu, which is apparently all I’m capable of,” Neil muttered, and Andrew sighed. 

“I’m not doing this,” he said, Neil smiled triumphantly and turned back to the waitress. 

“Ice cream, thanks,” he said, the girl gave him a wary look but hurried off to the kitchen. 

“I don’t know what that was but it was adorable,” Nicky squealed. 

“It looked like a PSA for the warning signs of sociopathy,” Aaron remarked, Katelyn kicked his ankle under the table.

The rest of the dinner went well enough, with Neil regretting his choice of only ice cream about two spoonfuls in but being too stubborn to go back on it. Nicky chatted their ears off in a haphazard mix of German and English about his and Erik’s time in Germany. He beamed any time either of the cousins talked and seemed to genuinely care for both of them. Neil wasn’t sure why it surprised him, but it did. He wondered vaguely how someone so over the top could still manage to be so genuine.

After they’d all finished their meals–and Neil had stolen a few of Andrews fries before stopping at the threat of losing fingers–Nicky cheerfully announced they should head to some place called Eden’s. 

It turned out to be a club, with a long ass line that they all managed to bypass thanks to Nicky enthusiastically greeting the bouncers. Aaron even had some complicated looking handshake with one and Andrew gave another a slight nod that the bouncer mimicked with a slight smile as he let them all in. 

The club was loud, and dark, and purple. 

There were strobe lights illuminating the seating area from the dance floor and loud music with bass that rattled Neil’s teeth. The place was packed with people, and Neil was already getting jostled around, Nicky yelled something about finding a table and Andrew grabbed Neil’s wrist and dragged him in the direction of the bar. Thankfully there the crowd thinned a bit and there were lights lining the bar. Andrew leaned against it, and Neil hopped up on a barstool to avoid being shoved around anymore than he already was. He glanced over and spotted one of the bartenders giving Andrew a grin as he finished up with the drinks he’d been making and came over. 

“Long time no see stranger,” the man said, Andrew gave him a flat look that made the man laugh. It was a full body laugh, that the man threw his head back for, even though Neil couldn’t figure out the joke. Roland slid Andrew a shot of something that Andrew knocked back. 

“Neil, this is Roland,” Andrew introduced pointedly, and ‘Roland’ looked over, his eyes moving up and down Neil in a way that made him feel suddenly self conscious. 

“Well hello there,” Roland purred. 

“Nope,” Andrew said, which made Roland blink and tear his eyes away from Neil–which he was grateful for. 

“What–no, did you really–” the grin fell off his face and Andrew put a hand on his arm bands, Roland put his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “alright, alright my bad,” he hurriedly backtracked, Andrew moved his hand away from the bands. 

After a couple more minutes Roland passed Andrew a tray of drinks, Andrew took it and started through the crowd in the direction of the tables. Neil tried to stay close and follow him, but when they finally found the table and he was able to grab ahold of it and anchor himself Neil was glad. 

He glanced around as the cousins and Erik and Katelyn started taking shots and sipping on drinks. The crowd bustled and writhed around him, dazed looking faces popping up and sweat gleaming off of faces in the flashing strobe lights. The music was deafening and Neil almost jumped out of his skin when Andrew’s hand appeared on the back of his neck. He gave Neil a serious look. 

“Are you ok?” he asked, Neil gave him a fleeting smile. 

“I’m going to find the bathroom, be right back,” he said, Andrew nodded and let him go so Neil could walk away. Eventually he found the far wall and decided to just follow that. He found an emergency exit before he found the bathroom however, which worked better anyways so he pushed it open and breathed in a deep breath of the cool air from outside. He could still feel the pounding bass from inside the club but at least here all the light was constant. Neil was starting to get a headache from all the strobing. 

He rubbed his temples and leaned against the brick wall of the club.

“Tsk tsk Nathaniel, don’t you know it’s rude to hide other peoples gifts?” a voice said from down the alleyway. The hair on the back of Neil’s neck rose up and his eyes flashed to where Riko Moriyama was casually strolling down the alley. Neil turned on his heels and reached for the door but Riko grabbed his arm and shoved him roughly back against the building. Neil scowled at him.

“Oh no, not yet, if you go back in there I have to deal with your guard dog, and my patience is already thin,” he said, grinning vilely. 

“Fuck you,” Neil spat, trying to shove Riko off of him, he froze as he felt a gun against his abdomen. “Are you really going to shot me in an alleyway? Am I that annoying?” Neil remarked, but his blood froze at Riko’s grin. 

“No, nothing that brash, this is a taser, not a pistol,” he said, and Neil’s confidence fell away from him like a stone. _A fucking taser? Fuck._ “You’ll never believe who I’ve been chatting with recently–he wasn’t very happy about finding out you were alive, Nathaniel,” Riko continued, and Neil’s heart started to pound. 

“That doesn’t scare me, he can’t do anything right now,” he said. Nathan Wesninski had been sloppy in Seattle, he’d gotten caught and unfortunately was smart enough to use an alias. Carrigan Bends had been in a Washington prison for the past couple of years, it was the only reason Neil hadn’t just gone and killed his father first.

“Oh, really?” Riko said, something shining in his eyes that made Neil shiver. “Because I was just talking to him–Carrigan? Was that the name he was pretending to be?” 

_Fuck._

_No, wait._ Suddenly Neil got an idea. 

“We had an interesting conversation, about possessions and debts and such–”

“So what? You’re here to nab me and dump me with him?” Neil asked, trying to feign fear. But if that was the case then this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. If Riko was taking him to his father Neil would have the first clear shot at him he’d had in years. Neil could practically taste the satisfaction of sinking a blade into his fathers eye and watching as he choked in pain.

“Oh no, no, no, see, your father–unlike you and that dog of yours–understands debts,” Riko said, and dread started creeping back into Neil’s mind like a chill fog. “You, were supposed to be mine, so you will be, and in return, I’m letting him do whatever he wants to Minyard with the promise of a good cover up.” Riko explained, now Neil was panicking. 

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit._

_Fuck._

Neil’s mind was whirling with images of his father standing over Andrew with a bloody cleaver, of Andrew cut into bloody little chunks. Of his father’s grin and Andrew’s screams of pain. 

“You can’t do that–his family will–”

“–not care, they’ll be too busy blaming the death of Andrew Minyard on his recent roommate and apparent serial killer, Neil Josten.”

“You fucking–” Neil didn’t even manage to finish his insult, his fist connected with Riko’s face and startled Riko enough to let Neil put space between himself and the taser gun. He dove back into the club and slammed the door shut. 

Neil started shoving through the crowd, trying to reach the table where everyone had been so he could warn Andrew what was coming. If Nathan really was out then that meant Andrew was in serious danger. Neil had to get to him and warn him, so he could gather everyone and get them to safety and then Neil could stay behind–maybe use himself as bait and get his father to come out after him. 

He finally reached the table–only to find it empty. Their tray of drinks was left half drank on the table but no one was there. Panic crawled up Neil’s spine as he desperately looked around for Andrew. Instead of the blond though, he caught sight of Riko’s snarling face shoving through the crowd after him, and what looked like some backup. Neil turned and beelined for the bar, not knowing where else to look.

He spotted the bartender from earlier–Roland–and tried to make eye contact before someone grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the writhing crowd. Neil felt the taser jammed into his side again and turned to see Riko glaring at him. Neil spit on him, and Riko pulled the trigger on the taser. Neil’s gut laced with what felt like needles jabbing into every inch of his body and racing through his blood stream. 

_Fuck._ Was all he thought as consciousness slipped through his fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GROSS. NASTY. SPITEFUL. WACK.
> 
> NEXT TIME: Andrew is not very happy


	18. Andrew Rethinks His Opinion of His Brother's Girlfriend and Plots Homicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: lots of violence/ Andrew having a generally bad day/ Lola.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter is a fucking disaster and I'm lowkey sorry for it. XD this is like, fuck I don't know what I was on when I wrote this but I wanna be back on it. Katelyn is iconic and I would die for her, this is why. 
> 
> Also??? We're third chapter to the end??? What the heck??? I did NOT expect to actually finish this lmao I have the worst track record with finishing things but?? here I am?? 
> 
> Thank yous to everyone who leaves nice comments and kudos you literally make my entire month <33

Andrew glanced at his watch again. It had been too long since Neil left, which meant he was either having a panic attack in the bathroom or something worse. Either way it wasn’t good so Andrew left the table and made his way over to the restrooms. 

Not finding Neil there wasn’t making him feel better. Jean’s warning was hovered around the edges of his thoughts and he scowled as he searched through the crowd for the red-headed idiot. He ran into an absolutely trashed looking Aaron dancing with an equally drunk looking Katelyn and told them both to go find Nicky and Erik and meet at the table. Aaron grumbled something about being a fun sponge but Andrew didn’t have time to listen to him. 

He forced his way through the dancing crowd and finally reached the bar. Looking around though he realized Neil wasn’t there either. Roland tried to catch his eyes and Andrew ignored him, until Roland waved his hand insistantly and Andrew scowled. 

“What,” he snapped, Roland didn’t even flinch. 

“I saw your boy leave with some other guy–the red head,” Roland said, and Andrew clenched his jaw. 

“How long ago?” he demanded. Roland shrugged. 

“They just walked past,” he said, pointing towards the exit, and Andrew was gone before he even realized he was moving. He shoved open the door and ignored the curses he got when the door nearly hit some random guy smoking outside. 

His eyes scanned the parking lot, but he couldn’t see anyone besides the few loitering clubbers that had yet to go inside. Then suddenly he heard the screeching of tires and looked to his left in time to see a black SUV peeling out of the parking lot. The passengers side window was rolled down and Andrew caught Riko’s grinning face as the car tore past. 

Andrew swore and slammed the door shut as he went back into Eden’s, he grabbed an indignant sounding Nicky as he passed him and couldn’t care less if Erik managed to follow him. When he got back to the table Aaron had apparently half listened, because him and Katelyn were making out at the table. Andrew grabbed Aaron, not having the energy to yell over the music and explain anything and just dragged them outside. 

As soon as they were free of the pounding music Andrew shoved Nicky and Aaron in front of him, they both were grumbling and cursing him and Nicky was rubbing his arm where Andrew had grabbed him. 

“The fuck is your problem?!” Aaron hissed, and Andrew glared at him. 

“Are we leaving? What’s going on?” Nicky asked.

“Where’s Neil?” Erik asked, glancing around. At that comment everyone else looked around too. 

“Neil’s a bit held up at the moment, we’re leaving, now.” Andrew bit out, everyone started asking questions at the same time and Andrew ignored them all, until his phone started ringing, he pulled it out, half expecting Riko’s unknown number and his taunting voice and almost shattered it in his fist when he realized it was Kevin. 

“ _What._ ” he growled into the phone. 

“Let me out, I can’t get out,” Kevin’s slurred voice sounded from the other end of the phone. Andrew had never wanted to kill him more in his entire life. He didn’t even bother to remind Kevin that the door locked from the _inside._ “I can hear you guys downstairs let me out I wanna–” Kevin cut off and Andrew listened to what sounded like a door slamming shut. “–I wanna go sleep,” Kevin slurred. “Hey! Let me out!” Kevin yelled, probably to the house more than to the phone. Andrew hung up the phone and had to force himself to shove it in his pocket and not smash it against the side of a car. 

“Who was that?” Nicky asked, Andrew glared at him and got in his car. He counted to four and decided if Nicky and Erik weren’t in the car by then he was driving away without them. Luckily for them Nicky got the hint and hurriedly climbed in. “Andrew seriously, what the fuck is going on?” he said, sobering up and looking anxious. That only made Andrew more mad though as he stepped on the gas and let the clutch all the way out so the car roared out of the parking lot. Nicky screeched and Erik cursed under his breath in harsh sounding German as they both fumbled for their seatbelts. 

“Andrew!” Nicky managed but Andrew ignored him. He could see Katelyn and Aaron following him–significantly slower–and blocked everything else out except the road as he drove. 

Riko had Neil, and Andrew had been too stupid to be able to do anything about it. His mind raced with alternate options, ones where he’d gone with Neil, or where they just hadn’t gone to Columbia. His self-punishing train of thought was shattered when his phone rang again. 

Andrew raced past a red light–ignoring Nicky and Erik’s screaming–and picked up the phone. 

“ _What._ ” he growled again, tired of people talking and demanding things from him. 

“I just got a very interesting phone call from Kevin Day,” Renee’s voice said smoothly over the phone. 

“I don’t have time for this Renee.”

“You don’t have time to open the door and let Kevin out?”

“We aren’t even in the house.”

“Then who was Kevin talking with?” Andrew slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding rear-ending the Subaru ahead of him.

“What?”

“He was talking to someone, Kevin said it was Katelyn?” Andrew glanced in his rearview mirror, where he could clearly see Katelyn sitting in the passenger's seat of her truck a few cars behind him. “That wasn’t Katelyn was it?” Renee asked, her voice sharpening slightly.

“Riko grabbed Neil,” Andrew explained. 

“Do you need me there?” Andrew rattled off the Columbia house address as a response. “Give me half an hour,” she said.

“Hurry up,” Andrew hung up and tossed the phone in the center console. He stepped on the gas again. 

“Wait–wait what?! What about Riko Andrew?” Nicky demanded shrilly. Andrew ignored him more. Nicky knew about Riko, and Andrew and Kevin’s deal, he’d been there for the start of it. But Andrew didn’t have the concentration to spare to explain the whole situation so he said nothing as he pulled up to the house. There was a strange car parked outside and the door was open. 

_Definitely not Katelyn._

“Stay in the car, don’t let Aaron or Katelyn come in,” Andrew said as he got out, ignoring Nicky’s protesting noises. He had his knives out before he got to the door, and he shoved it open silently. 

Andrew made his way through the house, the living room was empty and untouched, so he moved on. Upstairs was left dark, he could faintly hear what sounded like Kevin snoring upstairs, so he decided to wait to go up until he’d cleared the kitchen. That was when he ran into her. 

There was a woman, sitting at his kitchen table, eating his ice cream. Andrew cleared his throat in the doorway to the kitchen, and she looked up at him and grinned. 

“Oh joy, you’re home, I thought I was going to have to put up with the child you have locked in your upstairs bathroom all night,” she said casually. 

She had light blonde hair tied up in a tight looking bun, her fingernail had acrylic nails on them as red as her overly drawn lips. She was wearing a smile that probably would have made chills race through Andrew, but right now he was too pissed off with the situation to do anything but glare at her. 

“You know, I’m a little surprised honestly–” she raked her gaze over Andrew, “Junior’s actually got decent taste, I mean, you’re a little short for my liking but I could see it–it’s probably the jawline, Junior always has had an affinity for sharp things.” 

“Who are you,” he demanded, her grin widened. 

“Oh? He’s never mentioned me? That’s quite a shame, we’re practically family, I taught him everything he knows,” she said, drawing out the word ‘everything’ with a singsong tone that made Andrew want to strangle her. “That little twerp used to pretend he hated it. You can’t imagine how surprised his daddy was when we found out who was causing all our troubles–guess he does take after his bitch of a mother,” the woman mused, and Andrew’s fist clenched around his knives. “I’m Lola, pleasure to meet you,” she added, with a knife sharp smile. 

“Where’s Neil.” he managed through gritted teeth. Lola stuck her tongue through her teeth and glanced around like she was thinking about it. Then she shrugged.

“Dunno, unfortunately he’s not ours anymore,” she grinned again, malice lighting her dull brown eyes. “I would have liked to make that pretty little thing cry again.”

Andrew lunged at her, knives flashing. It seemed to catch Lola off guard and he landed a slice across her cheek. She glared at him for it but he didn’t stop. He kicked her in the shins and stabbed the knife down into her shoulder, she screamed in pain as she lashed out with her own knives, Andrew jumped back to avoid them. 

He heard the sound of the fist on the back of his skull before he felt it. Andrew stumbled forward and tried to turn on whoever had hit him, only to find just about six foot four of behemoth towering over him. Vaguely he heard someone screaming and realize Nicky must have followed them in, then there was the sound of a gun cocking and everyone’s head whipped around to see Katelyn standing with a fucking glock held out in front of her and a serious expression on her face. 

“Why do you have a gun!?” Aaron screeched, looking utterly panicked, and Katelyn gave him a dumbfounded look. 

“I grew up in Texas Aaron, you _know_ this,” she said, before turning back to the kitchen. “Knife _down,_ ” she ordered Lola, and when Andrew turned around he realized she’d been poised to stab him in the back. Lola snorted. 

“What, little city girls gonna shot me? I’m not afraid of you dusting the cabinets,” Lola remarked condescendingly, Katelyn closed one eye and pulled the trigger of her gun, there was a deafening bang and then Lola started screeching and clutching her hand as it started to bleed, the knife nowhere to be found. Andrew looked back at Katelyn, who was grinning wildly. 

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” she admitted, Andrew decided he needed to recheck his opinion of his brother’s girlfriend. 

“What the _fuck,_ ” Nicky and Aaron said at the same time, Erik did too but it was in German and a lot less PG. 

Andrew turned on Lola and grabbed her neck in his hand, he slammed her back against the cabinets and she scowled at him, wheezing for breath and clutching her bleeding hand. 

“ _Where is he,_ ” he growled, and she didn’t stop glaring, he tightened his grip. 

“You can threaten me all you– _fuck_ –all you want, but you're just– _wasting_ –time, I don’t know, Riko has him,” she coughed out and Andrew gave her a final glare before letting her collapse into a heap on the floor. Suddenly the window shattered and Andrew threw Lola in front of him as a shield until he recognized Renee. She had a knife out and a deadly look on her face–cross nowhere to be seen. 

“You’re late,” Andrew hissed at her, then whirled around as Nicky started screaming again. Andrew spotted Allison bursting in through the front door, cocking a shotgun. 

“What the _hell_ is happening??” Aaron yelled. Nicky pointed at him and nodded, looking to Andrew with wide eyes. 

“Yeah, uh, feel free to explain whenever,” Erik said sarcastically, suddenly there were sirens outside. 

“Who called the police?” Andrew growled with enough heat to make almost everyone in the room flinch, except Erik who kept his wide eyed glare glued to Andrew.

“I did, she _shot_ someone!” he said, Andrew gritted his teeth and Erik threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “ _Fucking Americans,_ ” he swore in German. 

“Allison, can you go tell the police it’s safe?” Renee asked, her holy-christian face back on now that everyone was out of immediate danger, though Andrew noticed her knives were still out and she hadn’t left the position he knew from experience would fuck up Lola if she tried moving. Allison nodded and passed her shotgun off to Aaron, who held it like it was a bomb until Nicky grabbed it from him and held it up leveled at the guy who’d punched Andrew.

“Oh fuck! Kevin!” Nicky said, “Aaron go check on Kevin, _fuck_ we left him here!” Aaron gave him a wide eyed look. 

“I’m not–”

“ _Go!_ ” Katelyn, Nicky and Andrew all yelled at Aaron before he could protest. He glared at them all before rushing off upstairs. Andrew dragged a hand through his hair and started pacing. This didn’t help him, this wasn’t helping. 

Now all he knew was that Neil wasn’t with Wesninski, he was with Riko, and they had no way of tracking down Riko or knowing what the fuck he was planning on doing. For all Andrew knew he had Neil in some shady bunker doing who knew what to him. 

Fuck that was probably what was happening. 

“Andrew, do you know who they are?” Renee asked calmly, and Andrew scowled at her for breaking his train of thought. 

“They work for Wesninski,” he said, then he paused, remembering the info dump from Wymack. “You’re Malcolm,” he said, turning to Lola, who smiled at him. 

“You’re a fan?” she remarked, and Renee grabbed Andrew’s arm to stop him from stabbing her. He scowled at her, and she just gave him a serious look. 

“Andrew, do you remember who’s outside?” she reminded him, he shook her hand off but went back to pacing as the cops flooded in. Including–for some reason–Wymack. The man pointed to Andrew and then too Andrew’s room, Andrew ignored him until Renee gently pushed him over and he reluctantly went after Wymack. 

He could hear the muffled chaos of the cops finding Katelyn and Nicky holding guns pointed at the two attackers with Erik panicking in rough sounding German. 

“Minyard you better have a decent fucking explanation,” Wymack said as he slammed the door shut. 

“Well I don’t, so fuck off,” Andrew snapped, forcing himself to stand still and stop pacing. He clenched his fists and then forced them to relax. 

_it doesn’t matter it doesn’t matteritdoesn’tmatteritdoesn’tmatteritdoesitdoesitdoesitdoes._

“ _Fuck,_ ” he growled clenching his fists again. For one of the first times since high school he wished for his old apathy. Fuck even the fake, drug induced euphoria would be better than this–this–hole that was eating at the inside of Andrew. 

“Minyard calm down, you have to tell me what’s going on,” Wymack said calmly, Andrew ignored him and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his old stash in his desk. He lit up and sat down on the desk, taking a drag as he tried to get control of his emotions. 

The cigarette tasted like acid, so he stubbed it out on the desk. Then he lit another, took a drag off of it and stubbed it out on the wall. He lit a final stick and forced himself to keep it stuck between his lips. 

It took too long but Andrew finally calmed down enough to speak properly. His head was pounding and his chest was aching and the cigarette tasted like fucking smoke–he stubbed it out again. 

“They got Neil,” he said finally, and Wymack dragged a hand down his face. 

“Who’s outside?”

“Lola Malcolm.”

“Fuck–so Wesninski finally caught up?”

“Wesninski doesn’t have Neil, he gave him to Riko.”

“Shit, that fucking–” Wymack dragged a hand through his hair and cut himself off. “Well with this we can get a warrant, we just need locations, warehouses places that the Moriyama's own that don’t make sense–” Wymack muttered out loud to himself, he listed off a few locations and Andrew committed them to memory. 

Then Andrew got up and went for the door, Wymack blocked him. 

“Move.” Andrew said, Wymack ignored him. 

“Where are you going?”

“To get Neil.”

“Andrew we have to wait for a warrant, and even then you’re a citizen I can’t–”

“Watch me.” Andrew growled, shoving Wymack out of the way and throwing the door open. 

“Minyard!” Wymack called out, but Andrew didn’t respond, he just stormed past the other cops and slammed the front door of the Columbia house shut before getting in his car and driving away like the devil himself was chasing him. 

He was going to find Neil, and drag him out of whatever hole Riko had stuffed him in. 

Then, he was going to personally remove Riko’s face and re-apply it backward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alkdjfad DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN??
> 
> It got nuts y'all and I LOVE it XD
> 
> NEXT TIME: "Desperation makes for a valuable lubricant"
> 
> (oh and also, I don't know if any of you have read my other work but if you have and you liked "'I Hate You' Sounds Like 'As You Wish'" ;) there's something coming just for you real soon, I've got Chapter II halfway done)


	19. Neil Says Thank You–For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Semi graphic depictions of torture/ murder (I don't _think_ it's as bad as cannon but it's not worse) 
> 
> Neil and Riko have a grand old time, and Neil avenges his vendetta.
> 
> ****NOTE ALSO: thanks to @nooshi I realized I'm a dumbass who had a massive plot-hole, so I rewrote chapter 8 so that Kevin says he ONLY met with Lola and not Nathan, because Nathan was 'out.' Lmao sorry about that, now it's fixed, thanks for noticing my dumbassery Nooshi <333 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aljdsfjl it's the end???
> 
> I'm so sorry about this being a week late >:( I got caught up in school and shiz and writing papers and totally burnt out on writing anything XD
> 
> Also: I'm sorry in advance, I suck ASS at ending things.
> 
> there's gonna be another lil chapter that's like an epilogue but it's mostly just going to be an extra scene cause I had this idea that I couldn't get out of my head and so now it's happening. That'll probably come out either right after this or tomorrow, depending on how fast I can type before I fall asleep XD
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading this and following me so far!!!!! I'm so surprised so many of you liked my writing and enjoyed the story, you all made my fucking YEAR with your nice comments and kudos and I'm so happy to have been a part of this <3333333

Neil’s body ached as he regained consciousness. 

He was getting tired of waking up aching and without any memory of where he was. Though, the brisk slap across the face helped jog his memory and he snapped his eyes open and ignored the way his entire body felt sore and stiff. 

Riko was standing over him, grinning like a full blow sociopath and Neil scowled at him. 

“Oh look, he’s up, finally,” Riko said. 

“Sorry for taking so long, it’s almost like someone tazed me or something,” Neil remarked, Riko slapped him again, hard enough to rattle Neil’s teeth. His hands were restrained behind his back by what felt like handcuffs–the steel was already cutting Neil’s wrists raw. And he was sitting in a chair, his ankles also cuffed and secured to the bar between the front legs of the chair. It wasn’t comfortable–at all–and Neil forced himself to stop pulling against the restraints since it was only bruising him farther. 

They were in a mostly empty warehouse with just a couple of crates and storage containers taking up space. Neil could hear water rushing outside–probably from some kind of river–and there was no one else in sight except Riko. 

“Manners Nathaniel, manners,” Riko said, all while watching Neil like he was a fresh cut of meat he was contemplating the best way to cook. On second thought, actually, Neil doubted Riko knew how to cook. 

“What’s even your plan for this? Just let me rot away in a warehouse?” Neil growled, Riko’s smile widened. 

“No, unfortunately though you’re a bit too much of a flight risk, so we’ll have some fun for a while and then I’ll kill you,” he said, starting to circle around Neil with a considering look. Neil turned his head as far as he could to keep his eyes on Riko, until the man stopped in his blindspot and Neil couldn’t see him no matter how far he strained. 

Neil had a funny feeling that ‘fun’ was going to be pretty one sided. 

He ended up being right, as suddenly he felt the cool steel of a blade against his forearm. He clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. Riko pressed the blade just enough to bruise but not break the skin. Neil felt breath on his ear and he forced himself not to react. 

“Hmm… you got quiet,” he said. 

“It’s your mind numbing stage pres–” Riko cut off his remark by slicing the blade across his arm. Neil clenched his jaw against the pain but didn’t make a noise. It stung like hell but it wasn’t deep. Riko was probably trying not to risk hitting an artery– _lucky Neil._ He could already feel blood leaking down his arm and dripping over his tight fist. 

Riko slashed another cut, and another, and another, until Neil was sure his arms looked like a bad game of tic-tac-toe, but Neil didn’t make any noise. His arms were shaking from holding his fists so tightly and his teeth were groaning in his gums from the tension. His arms felt like they were on fire. 

Then Riko stopped, and Neil didn’t move until he felt the knife jamb into his left hand to pry it open. He opened his fist instinctively and Riko grabbed it and forced it to stay open, dragging the knife from the heel of his palm down each of the fingers in straight, deep cuts that made each of Neil’s fingers ache all the way to the bones. 

He ground his teeth against any noise though, even when Riko started twisting his wrist until Neil heard it pop. Pain exploded through his hand and raced up his arm to his elbow. He tasted blood in his mouth and realized he’d been biting down on his tongue too. 

“You know, your father recommended me cutting your achilles tendons…” Riko started, dragging the knife across Neil with barely any pressure as he walked around to stand in front of Neil. His eyes were gleaming and it made Neil’s gut roll. “But I think it’s going to be more fun to try and watch you run away later,” he finished, leaning in close to Neil’s face with a smug grin. Neil used the proximity to his advantage and headbutted Riko as hard as he could. 

His own skull ached at the hit and he had to spit a mouthful of blood out but with the way Riko’s nose was bleeding and the curse storm he was raging, Neil suspected it was worth it. 

“ _You fucking–_ ” Riko didn’t even finish his own sentence, too enraged as he dived forward and slashed the blade across Neil’s chest. It took a moment for Neil to feel it, and then suddenly his entire chest was throbbing in sync with his head and his burning arms and fingers. 

Things did not get better from there. Neil tried to stay silent, but after a while biting on his lip only helped to add to the pain as he slipped in and out of dazed consciousness. Blood loss pulling him down into a hazy, half-reality where he stopped even seeing Riko or hearing his taunts and just felt each and every cut and kick. 

When Riko finally stopped it took Neil far too long to realize it, and by the time he’d regained a sad, crumpled version of consciousness Riko was busy growling into a phone. 

“ _–Arrested?_ Well how the hell was I supposed to know he had backup??” Riko was saying, his voice sounding irate. “...No, no obviously that’s not what I’m saying–I–no, it’s–” whoever was on the other end of the line cut him off and Neil could see his jaw working in frustration. 

_You need to leave you need to leave you need to leave you need to leave you need to leave._

Neil started working on the cuffs–apparently blood and desperation make for a valuable lubricant, as it only took a bit of straining to get the cuff to slide off. It also helped that his hand had gone completely numb and limp. 

Neil let himself stretch his arms out for the briefest of moments before pulling out the knife Riko had left sticking out of his side. He used it to break the chain links in the cuffs around his ankles and silently stood up. 

Riko was standing a few feet away, his back to him, and he was too preoccupied with whoever was on the phone to notice Neil stalking towards him. 

“...obviously you’ll be compensated but it’s not my fault that your people are incompetent.” Riko snarled, and those were his last words because Neil slit his throat just like all his other victims. Riko choked on his own blood and dropped the phone, a hand going up to his throat and another flailing wildly behind him in an effort to defend himself. Neil easily side stepped him and watched as he fell to the ground. He stepped closer so he was standing over Riko and watched for a moment as the man died. 

Then he grinned, crouching down and touching the tip of the knife to Riko’s cheek, where he carved an ‘x’ right through the 1. Riko gurgled in pain and struggled feebly against Neil–who ignored him. 

“You should have cut my right hand,” Neil managed, his throat sounded froggy and it stung to use, but he ignored every other ache in his body and stood up, watching as the last of the life drained from Riko Moriyama. 

Then he picked up the phone on the ground. 

“Who is this?” a rough voice demanded over the call, and for a second everything around Neil froze and he was back in the house in Baltimore watching his father scowl at him from across the table and just _knowing_ how much pain he’d be in once the ‘guests’ left. “ _Answer me,_ ” Nathan Wesninski snapped, jerking Neil out of his stupor. “I know where you are Moriyama, and I’m coming to get my son and when I find you it’s going to make his punishment look like mercy–and believe me when I say that’ll be quite a feat.” 

Neil couldn’t help it, he just bit out a mangled sounding laugh that felt like it was being dragged out of his lungs. 

“ _Who. Is. This._ ” Nathan ground out as Neil’s laugh turned to choking on the pain of hundreds of slices across his chest and back. But a delirious grin still tugged at Neil’s lips. 

“You sound dumber than I remember,” he said, voice sounding hoarse. 

“Nathaniel,” Nathan said.

“Come find out.” Neil said, and then he hung up. He barely lowered the phone before typing in the number he’d somehow grown accustomed to typing into each new phone he got. 

Andrew picked up on the third ring. 

“ _Tell me where–_ ”

“Wesninski is coming for you,” Neil cut Andrew off, the other line was silent for a long pause.

“Neil?” Andrew’s voice was quiet.

“He’s coming to find you–Riko and him struck a deal, I don’t know who he’s bringing but you have to–”

“Shut up.”

“No, Andrew you don’t–”

“No, _shut up._ ” Andrew said, anger flashing through his voice and Neil blinked. “You called too late, Malcolm and Plank were just arrested,” he said, and relief flowed through Neil, for a second allowing him a distraction from the pain he was in. 

“So you’re safe?” he asked, Andrew growled on the other end of the phone. 

“Where are you.”

“Not somewhere I’m going to let you run to.”

“Not the right answer, Neil,” Andrew gritted out. 

“I don’t know where I am, I hear water, but I’m not leaving yet–my father, he’s coming here,” Neil said.

“You fucking–”

Neil could hear a car pulling up outside the warehouse. He felt his heart start up in his throat. 

“If I don’t call you, don’t come looking,” Neil said, then he paused, “And Andrew, thank you–for everything, you were–”

“ _No,_ do _not_ pull this shit Josten or I swear to god I’ll kill you myself,” Andrew snarled and Neil smiled bittersweetly. 

“Amazing, I was going to say amazing,” he finished.

“Neil–”

Neil hung up the phone. He debated for a moment–still holding a knife and stained with his and Riko’s blood–over whether or not he should use the element of surprise and kill his father fast. Then the doorknob started turning and he realized he was too late, he watched as the rusty door was pushed open and creaked on it’s old hinges. 

The door gaped and showed the terrifying image of Nathan Wesninski, rage covering his face. 

Again, Neil was thrown back into the body of his eight year old self, that same look causing him to flinch away before his father even took a step in his direction or grabbed the ripping hot iron from his mother. 

But then he blinked, and the mirage of towering, terrifying Nathan vanished. The man had clearly aged, his face heavy with wrinkles and his auburn hair streaked with grey. There were new scars across his face, probably from prison, and he stood favoring his right leg. 

“Nathaniel,” The man said, with a vile grin stretched across his face, eyes still alight with rage. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” and Neil threw back his head and laughed. He couldn’t help it. The image of big bad Nathan from his childhood was melting away so quickly it was almost comical. Neil had seen worse since leaving his fathers shadow–hell, had very nearly become worse. This man was nothing more than a vengeful old man whom Neil took his likeness from. 

At Neil’s hysterical laughter Nathan sneered and then charged at Neil–which was when he noticed the massive cleaver the man was carrying. Fear rose in his chest as he dove to dodge the heavy swing. Though he barely managed to with all his wounds and his head spun. 

“Shit.” Neil cursed as he dodged another of his fathers swings. Luckily, even with all the injuries, he was still faster, but only barely–and if he were to catch even one glance of his father’s blade he would be done for. 

“ _Stand still you brat._ ” Nathan yelled through gritted teeth, and swung the blade from over his head down onto Neil’s. Neil sidestepped and stabbed with his own blade into the man’s arm. Nathan’s grip faltered and he dropped the blade, but then the next second he grabbed Neil by the neck and squeezed. 

Neil choked and struggled to breath, he stabbed the knife into his fathers hand without thinking and Nathan yelled in pain but didn’t let go. Suddenly Neil couldn’t find the strength to pull out the blade to stab him again, he scratched blindly at his fathers hands and heard the knife vaguely fall to the ground. 

Black spots danced in the corners of his vision and he wondered fleetingly if this was where he was going to die. In a scummy warehouse inches from his one goal, and killed by the one person he’d wanted to kill most. Something bitter in him twisted with a humorless laugh, how poetic, he thought, _what’s that about karma? Things biting you in the ass? Or I guess choking you out._

Then suddenly Nathan dropped Neil, and he collapsed on the brink of unconsciousness. He gasped greedily for ragged gulps of air as he scrambled to get his bearings. When he glanced back up he saw his father, looming over him, blade held in both hands above his head and gleaming in the dim lighting. He was saying something, but Neil’s blood was rushing too loud in his ears to hear anything. 

Then Nathan stopped, and glared over his shoulder at something, Neil didn’t bother to look over, he saw his last ditch chance and took it. He picked up the knife he’d dropped and launched up with his last bits of strength, stabbing Nathan in his thick neck. 

The man gurgled in surprise as Neil sank back to the ground and took the knife with him. Blood spurted from the wound he’d created, and for a moment Neil was certain Nathan was going to bring the cleaver down on him anyways. 

But then Nathan was gone, and Neil looked over and saw Andrew had tackled the man down and wrenched the cleaver out of his hands. Andrew landed a single, solid blow to the man’s temple with the back of the cleaver and Nathan went limp. Then choked on his own blood before his eyes bulged open and he finally went completely still. Neil stared at his dead body in awe. 

“–eil, Neil, _Neil._ ” Andrew was saying, but Neil couldn’t hear him, he started crawling towards his fathers body, wanting to check for the man’s pulse to make sure this wasn’t some sick dream. But then Andrew was holding him back. 

“No–I have to make–sure–” Neil said, struggling to get free, but Andrew held his arm tight, carefully avoiding the cuts from Riko. 

“Stop moving you idiot, you’re going to pass out.” Andrew gritted out, then he flicked Neil’s forehead when it didn’t stop him. Neil blinked and then focused on him, finally really realizing that Andrew was there, that Andrew had stopped his father from killing him, that Andrew was also probably right about him passing out. 

“Fuck,” Neil whispered, and Andrew scanned his face, then he let go of Neil and walked over to Nathan, he leaned down and put his fingers to the man's wrist, checking for a pulse.

“He’s dead Neil,” he said.

_He’s dead Neil. He’s dead Neil. Dead. Dead. Nathan Wesninski is dead._

Neil laid back on the dirty floor and started laughing. Then Andrew was leaning over him and he flicked his forehead again, Neil’s laughter cut off and turned into choking as he struggled to breath against the reality.

_Nathan was dead Nathan was deadnathanwasdeadnathanwasdeadnathanwasdeadnathan was–_

“I killed him.” Neil croaked out, Andrew gave him an unimpressed look. 

“You’ve told me you do that,” he remarked dryly, narrowing his eyes slightly, “ _regularly,_ ” he mocked. Neil laughed again, his throat hurt, his arms hurt, his chest and his body hurt as the adrenaline left his system and his body registered that it had just been tortured and then nearly strangled to death.

_But he’d done it._

“I think I need a shower,” Neil said, Andrew blinked at him, as if in awe at the amount of stupid Neil was being. 

“I hate you so much you fucking idiot,” he snarled, some emotion shining through, and Neil grinned. 

“Yeah,” he said, then he started to sit up, “let’s go home how about?”  
****

They didn’t go home, because Neil passed out on the car ride and woke up in a hospital bed. Matt and Dan were there, and Wymack, and even Kevin–who mostly just wanted to know if Riko really was dead. Neil knew the feeling, because part of him wanted to go back to that warehouse just to check his fathers pulse for himself, just to make certain. 

Andrew was also there, he smelled like cigarette smoke and wouldn’t stop glaring at Neil and the only thing he’d said since Neil had woken up was _‘if you ever buy vanilla ice cream again I will bury your body parts in the empty tubs,’_ and then kissed him like the world started and ended with Neil.

After being subjected to Matt, Dan, and Wymacks mothering and the wary glances of all the doctors–probably about his injuries–he was finally released, and the first thing he did when he got back to his and Andrew’s apartment was pull out his phone. 

He’d debated calling the number the entire time he was in the hospital, but eventually he decided cleaning up the murder of two well known, well standing criminals was a little over his head. 

“Who is this?” the familiarly British accented voice greeted him, and Neil smiled sheepishly. 

“Hi uncle Stewart, I might need some of your help with something…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA I FINISHED IT???
> 
> I dunno how I feel about this ending, I think I'm sorry? 
> 
> I suck at ending things XD sex scenes and ending things (Lmao finishing?)
> 
> But seriously, everyone who's been reading every update and enjoying it and hopefully laughing, I love you, you're amazing, and perfect, and beautiful. Thank you so much (for everything, you're amazing) (XD) <33333333
> 
> NEXT TIME: “I’m Robin by the way.”


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil goes on an ice cream run and finally meets the lady across the hallway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyeeee, this is just an excuse for me to reincorporate the hallway lady and pretend that was my plan all along XD
> 
> Enjoy! xoxoxox

Stewart cleaned up Neils mess for him, which was good, because Neil didn’t think he was ever going to be able to move again.

Ok, that was probably a little dramatic. 

He was sore and stiff and the doctors had stopped giving him the pain pills so he felt every stitch and every new scar. King wasn’t helping exactly, she seemed to be with Andrew in the ‘glare-and-act-passive-aggressively-menacing-to-make-sure-Neil-knew-he’d-fucked-up’ boat. 

“...according to witness reports that have just been released, Exy Star Riko Moriyama was killed earlier this week by the notorious ‘Butcher of Baltimore,’” a news anchor was saying on the tv while Neil iced his wrist, which was stuck in a cast while it healed for another couple of weeks. “Evidently the criminal behind multiple unsolved homicides and an underground assassination business, had been in jail in Washington, disguising himself under an alias until he broke out earlier last week. Tetsuji Moriyama–Riko’s coach and uncle–stated that his nephew had called him to say he would be late to a meeting because he was giving a man a ride, this had been the last communication any of the Moriyama’s would receive from the Court bound striker as later he was found dead, killed by the Butcher…” the woman went on to explain how he’d also managed to fight back and the Butcher died of blood loss later.

So far Neil had been using the excuse of his recuperation to put off the meeting his Uncle wanted, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to avoid it for much longer. He dreaded the idea of meeting up with the man again, their last conversation hadn’t been exactly friendly, and Neil wasn’t completely convinced the man wouldn’t just take Neil with him back to Britain–that’s what his mother had always said he’d do. 

But Neil had been desperate, he knew he wouldn’t be able to cover up the death of a Moriyama successfully on his own, and he didn’t want to risk them retaliation against Andrew at all.

Andrew stirred Neil out of his thoughts by turning off the tv and giving him a bored look. 

“You of all people should know why it’s pointless to watch that,” he said, and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Doesn’t hurt to be careful,” he said. 

“Says the man who just got himself kidnapped and tortured so he could kill his father.”

“That’s not how that–”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Andrew interrupted him, and Neil clenched his jaw and glared. “We’re out of ice cream,” Andrew added after a moment.

“Why do _I_ have to get it? I don’t even eat ice cream,” Neil whined, and Andrew raised a brow. Neil sighed, “fine,” he hissed as he stood up and went to the door. 

“And cat food,” Andrew called as Neil exited the apartment, Neil rolled his eyes and closed the door as the car keys flew at him. He’d been hoping to jog the couple of miles to the store but apparently that was out of the question. He turned to get the stairs when he noticed the door open down the hall. 

“Well, that’s the first time one of you has left without screaming,” she remarked, and Neil glared at her. 

“Guess there’s still a running tab of neighbors minding their own business,” Neil snapped, she laughed. 

“He speaks! So far I’ve only gotten threats of violence from your husband,” she said with a grin. She was leaning against the doorframe of her apartment with her arms crossed. She was shorter, with brown hair cut in a bob and scruffy looking bangs. She had a small gap in her front teeth that made her look young and she was wearing a yellow sundress with a leather jacket over it. 

“I–he’s not my–” Neil started stammering, and the woman held up a hand. 

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that unless whoever was making that noise last night snuck a hooker in,” she said, and Neil blushed to his roots, “Thin walls buddy, _nothing_ is secret,” she added. "If it makes you feel any better, I also learned that the hard way."

“I–we–you–”

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a smirk, Neil clenched his jaw and flipped her off, face still burning. She laughed. 

“I’m Robin by the way,” she added, Neil opened his mouth to say something but the door to his apartment opened and Andrew’s head poked out.

“I thought you were leaving?” he asked flatly, and Neil turned his glare on him. 

“I’m not–” he growled in frustration, “I am!” he snapped finally and started to storm off. He heard Robin laughing after him. 

“Seriously though dudes, my grandma was over last night, do you have any idea how loud I had to blast The Price is Right? Way to go whichever one of you is Andrew,” she remarked, which wasn’t helping Neil’s blush. He almost wished he would have just died in that warehouse. 

“I’m getting _vanilla!_ ” Neil shouted as he stormed into the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nya heheheheh!
> 
> It's actually done now, there's no more?? Wow that was.... yeah, I don't know how to end things correctly XD
> 
> Anyways, seriously, thank everyone who read this and stuck with me, y'all are gold and perfect in every way <33

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on tumblr when I didn't have the magic of AO3 so there's like an another authors note there where I gush about @puddlejumper99 and @marjelle. They're both really cool, and if you for some reason don't know either of them say something nice. Anyways, uuuh, I've never done this fanfic thing before but I thought it could be fun to try out so yeah. Thanks for reading!!!  
> [ https://luci-cunt.tumblr.com/post/184264796118/neil-jostens-vendetta ]


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